The Wasteland
by Brunette
Summary: AU. When Beni takes the opportunity to run while he still can at Hamunaptra, he returns to Cairo a wealthy hero - much to the frustration of Rick, Evelyn, and Jonathan. Things become more complicated when Meela Nais joins the team assembled to excavate Hamunaptra for gold. Can they stop Imhotep from being resurrected again? And how does Ardeth's estranged wife fit into all of this?
1. They Hyacinth Girl

_**Author's Note. **I wasn't really sure if this was going to be a one-shot or a story, but it's looking like it's going to be a chapter story. I thought it might be interesting to do a "what if?" story centering around Beni. What if he'd left with his sack of treasure? How would that affect Rick, Evy, and Jonathan, and the events that followed the movie? That's not really the thought I had going into this story, though, but I like it and it fits, and I think that Vera will be a nice addition to this possible storyline. Anyway._

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the quote at the beginning is, of course, from The Wasteland, lines 21-26, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

_...for you know only  
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,  
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,  
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only  
There is shadow under this red rock,  
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock)..._

**The Hyacinth Girl**

"So you are alive, then."

He leaned in her doorframe, smelling of sweat and blood and looking more desperate than ever. God, he was thin. She never minded a thin man - in fact, she preferred them, but he looked sick and weak. His eyes were yellowish and bloodshot. She could see that even in the darkness of the tenement hallway. He looked past her for a second, eyeing her bed and her table. She was sure she heard his stomach growl. And then he was looking at her again.

God, he was desperate.

She couldn't hardly handle that kind of desperation, even from him. Especially from him. He thrived on desperation. He'd made his way in this world like a three-legged cat - the kind noboody wants but everybody feeds. His eyes were wide and panicky and he kept looking away from her to glance over his shoulder.

"Aren't you going to let me in?" he whispered.

She took a breath. She wanted to say no. She didn't need him coming around again. She didn't need it. She'd told herself she wasn't going to let him in again, ever. But God, he was so_ thin._ So thin and desperate...

She stepped out of the doorframe without another thought. He trudged in, and it occurred to her suddenly that he probably would've pushed his way in, like last time, if he wasn't so tired. His legs trembled beneath him as he sat in one of her chairs, his wide eyes on the door. She barely noticed him dropping a heavy bag on the floor.

"Hurry up and shut it."

She felt her heart starting to pound faster in her chest. She slammed the door and he jumped, glaring at her with his big, grayish-blue eyes. And she stared back at him with her dark ones.

"Who's after you this time?" she demanded.

He crossed his arms over his chest and pretended to be nonchalant. "No one."

Her hand was still on the doorknob, ready to fling it open. "Don't you lie to me, Beni."

He reached a hand up and ran it through his greasy hair. "It's nobody. They didn't see me."

She held onto the knob a moment longer, staring into his eyes. She could never tell if he was lying. But if someone was coming for him and came pounding on her door again, she could always pay him back for the lie then. Her hand relaxed, and she crossed the room over to where he sat at her table. She watched him with her hands on her hips, and he just looked back at her in his same, desperate way.

He wasn't desperate. He never was.

"You know, I don't need this."

Beni let out a little whine. "Oh, come on. You're going to lecture me now? At least get me some water and something to eat first."

She shot him a little glare. "You're not touching any of my dishes until you've cleaned yourself up."

"But I haven't eaten in days..."

That same whine. She couldn't be sure if that was the truth or not, but he was certainly thin enough to have skipped his meals for that long or longer. She looked at him a second, and breathed a sigh of defeat.

"All I have is eggs."

"You have more than that."

She shot him a look over her shoulder. "Well, all you're getting is eggs."

"But your_ bread,_ Vera...You're really going to feed me eggs when you make better bread than anyone?"

She turned back to her skillet so he wouldn't see her smile. She took a breath and reached into the cupboard, and brought him the smallest loaf of bread she had. She held it out to him, and he grabbed her by the wrist. She started to give him a warning, but he pulled her into his lap and kissed her hard. She felt him take the loaf of bread gently out of her hand and toss it on the table. His hands were tugging at her clothes, yanking up her skirt, and she pulled away from him.

"You're filthy."

"You like it when I'm filthy."

But she held him back, and swatted at his hands when they found her garters.

"I thought you hadn't eaten in days."

He gave her a dirty smirk. "Well, I haven't screwed anyone in longer than that."

Vera shook her head and tried to get up, but he held her firmly in his lap. "You're a real charmer."

"You don't like charmers."

She started to cross her arms over her chest, but found herself having to pry his hands off her legs again. "Stop telling me what I like and don't like. You don't know anything about that. You're just a leech, do you know that?"

Beni scoffed, wrenching his hand from hers and slipping it up her skirt again. She could feel the grainy sand dust on his palms, and tried to be irritated. He smelled like the desert and hot skin, and when she gave in and wrapped her arms around his neck, it was sticky with sweat.

"Am I?" he said in a mocking tone, unsnapping one garter and then moving over to her other leg. "Is that what I am? A leech?"

It really wasn't that unreasonable of her to want him to shower first. But he treated all of her requests like they were unreasonable. At first she thought that maybe he'd just never heard that beggars couldn't be choosers, but later it dawned on her that he wasn't a beggar at all. He always had what he wanted, one way or the other. He always got his way. At least with her, he did.

He got his way again, even though he was filthy and she'd had no intentions of even letting him in the apartment, much less sleeping with him. Much less feeding him. Much less bathing him. Much less giving him a place to sleep.

As she laid next to him in bed, she stared up at the ceiling and wondered what was wrong with her. She knew the kind of man he was. She knew exactly. The first time she'd let him stay, that very first time, was because she was scared by some gunshots outside and was just grateful to have a man with her. But it didn't take long, not long at all, to find out that he was no protection at all. She was his. She'd come home from the bakery, and he'd be there, hiding out from the police. She'd hear frantic knocking at 2:00 in the morning, and there he'd stand, breathless from outrunning an angry tourist he'd stolen from.

She rolled over to look at him. He smelled like lavendar and rose water now, but somehow she liked it less than the grime.

He stared up with half-lidded eyes, and she thought for a moment he might be asleep. He slept that way, sometimes, with his eyes open. But then his eyes rolled over to look at her.

"So you think I'm a leech, huh?"

"I know you're a leech. You take and take and take and never offer anything in return."

He sort of grinned. "Then we do you keep letting me in? Why do you keep screwing me?"

"I don't know."

And she _didn't_ know. She'd tried on every excuse for size at one point or another, and nothing seemed to fit. For a long time she tried to convince herself she just felt sorry for him. But she felt sorry for a lot of people. She felt sorry for Nico at the bakery, with his mean old wife, and the children on the street and that drunk that always slept in the alleyway next to her apartment. But she wasn't screwing Nico, was she? She wasn't giving bread to those children or letting that drunk sleep in her bed. And when she thought about it, she didn't feel bad for Beni, anyway. She knew what he was.

She knew exactly.

She was suddenly reminded of the bag he'd dropped on her floor when he came in. She pulled herself up in bed and squinted at it in the darkness.

"What's in the bag?"

He didn't answer her for a minute, and when she turned to look at him, he was asleep. She swatted his arm.

"Beni. What's in the bag?"

"The treasures of Hamunaptra," he muttered, and rolled over and went back to sleep.


	2. A Little Life with Dried Tubers

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the quote at the beginning is, of course, from The Wasteland, lines 21-26, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**A Little Life with Dried Tubers**

Even though she didn't work the next morning, Vera's eyes snapped open at a little before five in the morning. Rising early was a habit that seemed inescapable. Even on the nights that Beni rudely interrupted her sleep by pounding on her door, she couldn't make herself sleep much past five or six. When she turned to glance at his side of the bed, he was gone. And so was his bag.

He usually left before she woke up. Oh, now and then he'd show up so hammered that he'd still be nursing a headache in her bed when she got off at the bakery, but his preference, when he was sober, was to go before she could ask him not to come back. What difference would the words have made, anyway? He came no matter what, whenever he needed it. He knew he was always welcome, despite whatever she said.

It was a week before she saw him again. Well, saw his face. She'd taken a step out of the bakery while the morning was still cool, and picked up the newspaper, and there he was. Front and center, that cruel little grin on his face. He was shaking hands with a white-bearded man whom the caption named as Dr. Oscar Williams, chairman of the Bembridge Scholars. Next to the article was a close-up of a gold statuette of one Egyptian god or another. And there he was. The headline-proclaimed "discoverer of Hamunaptra," semi-colon, the enthusiastic suggestion: "Is this the new richest man in the world?"

Vera chewed on her lip a little, and wandered back into the bakery. She pretended not to think about it as she helped Nico roll out the filo dough. She told herself she didn't want to read the article. She didn't want to know what he'd done, or what he had to say about what he'd done. When he'd told her he had the treasures of Hamunaptra in that bag, she'd thought he was being flippant.

"Can you believe this guy?" Nico asked hours later on his break, perched on a stool with a cup of coffee and the paper as she toasted almonds.

She pretended not to hear him.

"Lucky bastard discovered Hamunaptra - and the experts are saying he's telling the truth. I mean, I don't know how they tell those kind of things, but I guess from looking at the stuff he brought back...He says he's going to excavate it and sell it all. Museums are going to be coming in from all over the world to bid on it. Can you imagine the kind of money that's going to bring in?"

Vera sighed, trying to look calm. "No. I can't imagine."

Two weeks ago, when Beni said he was taking another group to Hamunaptra, she assumed that meant what it always meant - he'd be back in a few days, and his employers wouldn't be. But he'd whined and complained that he was only getting paid half upfront, and so he had to actually take them all the way out there. He told her he'd probably get killed; he nearly did the last time he was there.

"And I _was_ there. It exists."

"I know it does."

And she did. She didn't tell him how she knew, but she did know. And then...time went by, as usual. She was alone or at the bakery, and then he came knocking on her door again, smelling like sand and carrying a bag he claimed was full of treasure. She never got a chance to peek inside it and see if he was telling the truth. She was so used to him lying, she supposed it hadn't occurred to her that he might have meant what he said.

"Still, I'd like to shake the little blighter."

Vera jumped at the sound of the voice, and looked up to see a couple familiar faces, and a strange, handsome one. She smiled and said hello, and wracked her mind for the names of those British siblings. She was terrible at remembering names, though she did know the man liked sourota quite a bit...

"Mr. Carnahan! Miss Carnahan! What can we do for you today?"

Nico was excellent at remembering names. He was a handsome Greek, somewhere near his fifties, and he spoke English with hardly an accent. Everybody liked Nico - except his wife.

"Just a loaf of sourdough, if you don't mind," Miss Carnahan said, pulling out her wallet.

"And a couple of those marvelous little honey and nut roll things," Mr. Carnahan put in. He quickly turned his attention back to their companion: a tall, striking man who spoke with an American accent.

"What do you want me to do? That's Beni for you."

Vera's ears perked up as she packaged their order.

_"Yes,_ my good son, I think we've all learned that over the course of our little journey. But still. We simply can't let him...waltz in and steal all the credit, can we?"

His friend shrugged. "Who cares about the credit? He got his name in the paper - so what?"

Miss Carnahan whirled around, and Mr. Carnahan gaped at him.

"Evy - did you hear what the man just said?"

Miss Carnahan took a few little steps and stood toe to toe with the much taller man. "Now look here, Mr. O'Connell. I know it probably sounds awfully silly to you, but this is my life's entire work. And I didn't go through everything I have in the past week to just - just bow out to a snivelling little weasel like him! It isn't about having a name in the paper. It's a name in the history books, don't you see? A discovery this monumental could change my entire career, and he's gone and taken it all for himself without a care."

Vera could feel Nico glancing at her with subdued amusement, but she couldn't look at him and share a smile just then. Was she losing her mind, or were they talking about the very same Beni who bothered her every few nights? The same one whose face was now plastered all over the city, on every front page?

Mr. O'Connell groped for something to say for a moment, but Evy Carnahan wasn't finished yet.

"And what he's doing to that city is a travesty! Digging it out and hacking off the artifacts to the highest bidder. It's obscene. Do you think for one moment he'll pay any mind to anything that's not made out of gold? It'll all get smashed to bits. Thousands of years of history!"

Mr. O'Connell held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I got it, Evelyn. But I still don't know what you want me to do about it."

"Well, we'll call the papers," Mr. Carnahan said.

"Oh?" O'Connell retorted. "And tell them what? That we were there, too? Prove it, Jonathan. We've got nothing to show for it."

Jonathan sighed, reaching into the pastry box for one of his sourota. Evelyn handed Nico some money and they started out of the bakery.

"If we knew where to find him, that'd be one thing. I know how to handle my buddy Beni. But I don't even know that - "

Vera didn't look at Nico as she slipped out from behind the bakery display and let the words tumble out:

"Excuse me."

All three of them turned to look at her in surprise. Vera's heart started to pound just a little bit faster in her chest.

"I hate to be an eavesdropper, but were you just talking about Beni Gabor - that man in the papers?"

She could feel Nico staring at her in surprise, and watched O'Connell's face move in an unreadable expression. She'd never mentioned anything to anyone about Beni; in the daylight, she'd found herself embarrassed of him in a way, and she didn't like to think of herself as the kind of girl who let seedy men into her apartment at any time of the night. Still -

"What if we were?" O'Connell said evenly.

Vera took a little step forward, meeting his eyes. "I might be able to help you - with finding him."


	3. Belladonna, or The Lady of Situations

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the quote at the beginning is, of course, from The Wasteland, lines 21-26, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**Belladonna  
_or, The Lady of Situations_**

The clock couldn't strike twelve soon enough.

Vera agonized over those last seven minutes, begging time to move just a little bit faster so that she wouldn't have to feel Nico staring at her curiously. He was hoping she'd tell him all about Beni Gabor, and how she knew him. Nico loved a good story, and he'd listen to anybody that had one. He followed her gaze to the clock, and smiled, just a little.

"I'm tempted to make you stay longer, just so you'll crack and tell me about this fellow."

Vera's eyes jerked to his, and she couldn't conceal a wince. "Oh, Nico, please..."

He laughed his hearty, good-natured laugh and patted her shoulder. "Now surely you know me better than that, Vera. Do I have wide hips and complain about the five children I brought into this world?"

Vera chuckled and gave him a fleeting smile. He was talking about his wife Phoebe, of course.

"I'd let you go right now, only I'm so curious I keep hoping you'll give in before noon."

Vera glanced at him, but didn't say anything. Four more minutes, now. Just four. Only four.

"Is he your long-lost brother?"

She giggled, and shook her head. The very thought of having Beni for a brother - God, what her father would've done to him to straighten him out.

Nico quirked an eyebrow at her and gave her a strange little smirk. "Does your husband know about him?"

Vera glanced down at her hands, and her insides went cold. She opened her mouth, and quickly snapped it shut again. Her eyes flitted up to the clock. Three minutes now. She didn't look at Nico as she went to the coat hanger in the corner and removed her purse.

"You know I haven't seen my husband in months," she said easily, though her hands were trembling just a little. What was wrong with Nico, bringing up her husband?

He let out a defeated sigh. "You'd better go so you can meet them. I guess I'll never know."

Vera gave him a little smile. "If I was even a little bit smart, no one would know I knew him."

Nico reached out and grabbed her wrist as she started to walk out from around the bakery display. She glanced up into his kind, dark eyes, his handsome face set with a serious expression.

"You _are_ smart, Vera," he said quietly. He gave her a little smile and released her arm, and she told him she'd see him tomorrow.

She felt lightheaded as she left the bakery; God, why _not_ Nico? What was wrong with her, sleeping with a ratty little con like Beni, letting him into her apartment and her bed whenever he felt like knocking on the door? Nico was sweet and handsome (even if he was almost thirty years older than her). He was married, of course, but so was she. Why not Nico? Or any other man, really? Why not any of the men who walked into the bakery in their nice suits and paid for her bread with actual money and flirted with her while she packaged their purchase? Why Beni, who woke her up at night and snuck out before she was up again in the morning; who stole the bread out of her cupboard and didn't even have the decency to shower before touching her with his grimy hands?

Vera tried to push these thoughts out of her mind as she rounded the corner to the bistro she told the Carnahans and Mr. O'Connell that she would meet them at. She often stopped by there after work for a sandwich, when she was too tired to think about going home to cook for herself.

She didn't feel too tired today.

Her head was buzzing, and a nervousness was starting to creep into her gut. What if she couldn't help them find Beni? He'd found the treasure. He was a wealthy man, and probably a local celebrity. What if he never came to her door again? He didn't really need to now. He could have everything he wanted or needed, with or without her. And if there was one thing she knew about Beni, it was that he didn't have much use for people he didn't need. He didn't really like people all that much.

Her feet slowed to a stop. God, what if she told them all about Beni - finally admitted to another living soul that she'd let the man leech off of her for much too long - and it was all for nothing? What if she never saw him again?

What if she never saw him again.

The words echoed in her skull, a statement now more than a question. With all that money, he'd probably move to Europe or America and marry some insanely beautiful woman and she'd never hear another thing about him ever again. He wouldn't tell her he was leaving. Why would he?

"Well, good riddance, then," she muttered under her breath, though the words felt strangely hollow.

She stopped just at the door of the bistro. A part of her wanted to turn and run back to her apartment and pretend none of today had ever happened, but then she saw a bunch of hands waving at her from one of the outdoor tables. She met their eyes and forced a little smile. It was too late to run now.

Vera walked over and took a seat next to the woman...what was her name again...?

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Evelyn Carnahan, and this is my brother Jonathan. I know we come by quite a lot, but I don't believe I've ever caught your name."

She took Evelyn's hand and shook it. "Vera Elders-Bay."

Evelyn gave her a little smile. "Ah. This is our friend, Mr. Rick O'Connell."

Rick shook her hand briefly and went back to staring at the menu.

"I've ordered mimosas," Jonathan announced. "I do hope you don't object to drinking in the morning."

Vera gave him a little smile. "It's noon, and I've been up since a quarter to four, so it hardly feels like morning to me, anyway."

Jonathan grinned before giving his sister a jabbing look. "See? Didn't I tell you it's proper to drink mimosas in the morning?"

Evelyn dismissed him with a little wave of her hand. "Now, Miss Eldersby - "

"It's Elders-Bay," Vera corrected. "Two names, with the hyphen. Elders and Bay. But please, call me Vera."

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. Vera. About this business with Mr. Gabor - "

"Yes," Jonathan jumped in. "Where can we find the little wanker?"

Vera swallowed uneasily, and couldn't quite look up at them. "Well...you see, I don't actually know where he is...I've become sort of worried that I might have misled you..."

Rick leaned back in his chair, watching her evenly. "Why don't you tell us what you know, and we can work from there."

Vera nodded slowly at him. "Alright. Well, I normally...usually, I see him every few days. Though sometimes I don't see him for weeks on end, it just depends..."

"Where do you see him?" Evelyn asked eagerly. "Does he come by the bakery?"

"No..." Vera took a deep breath, and she winced a little as she said the words, "He comes by my apartment. At night."

She felt her cheeks getting hot with embarrassment, and she just couldn't bear to look up from the tablecloth. She could feel their curious stares for what seemed like an eternity, and_ then_ -

"Great Scott, are you a prostitute?"

_"Jonathan!"_

She heard Evelyn give her brother a hard smack on his arm. _God,_ she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"No," she managed quietly. "No, it just...it's a long story."

Vera glanced up cautiously. Even though they still looked fairly surprised, she was relieved to see that none of them seemed particularly judgmental about it. Even if she _had_ just been asked if she was a prostitute. For the first time in her life. _Damn it, Beni..._

"Look," she said, trying to gain control of her shaking voice. The secret was out. There was nothing left to be afraid of. "I don't know if he'll ever come back, now that he's rich and important. He might never come by again. But if he does, maybe I can help you out."

She could feel Rick staring at her from across the table, and she looked up to meet his eyes. She couldn't read the expression in them, and the set of his mouth made her nervous. But she kept looking back at him.

"He really uses people, doesn't he?" Rick finally said. His tone was quiet and knowing, and Vera found a strange sense of comfort in it. She didn't know how he knew Beni, but clearly he knew him. He knew what he was like, the sort of man he was.

She laughed flatly. "He's a leech."

"That's the best way I've ever heard it put."


	4. Death by Water

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the quote at the beginning is, of course, from The Wasteland, lines 21-26, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**Death by Water**

Vera never wanted to be the kind of person who drank alone, but she had an unopened bottle of cabernet Nico had given her for Christmas this past year, and her whole body was yearning for something to make her feel just a little more numb. She knew she had to work tomorrow, but she popped the cork and brought the whole bottle with her to the bath. She took a little swig and breathed in the dreamy aroma of lavendar oil, rising in steamy waves off of the water. She was going to take a bath, and drink just a little too much, and then go to sleep and pretend she'd never even met Beni Gabor. Or the Carnahans or Rick O'Connell, for that matter.

She pulled off her robe and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She usually felt silly looking at herself naked, but she took another drink from the bottle and studied herself.

She knew all of her faults. Her breasts were nothing impressive, and her ears stuck out just a little, and her narrow hips...

Her free hand slid down the side of her body, feeling that curve of bone and then slipping over her stomach. She took a breath, staring at her hand over that place, that secret place where a child would never be. She knew it wasn't her hips' fault that nothing in there worked, but she hated them for it just the same.

She blinked hard and met her own eyes in the mirror before taking another gulp of wine. It buzzed like music in her head. She looked herself in the eye again, and then traced over her face. She knew she had a pretty face. She'd always known it was pretty, ever since she was a very little girl and people used to stare and smile at her. People still looked now, but the expression in their eyes were different.

She knew her face was the reason he married her, because he could've had anybody. Every girl in the tribe was dying to be his wife, or one of his wives. But he'd asked her. It had to have been for her face.

It certainly wasn't for her hips.

Vera took another drink, and the world felt a little fuzzy as she took a few steps and sank into the tub. Reluctantly, she set the bottle down next to the tub, telling herself that she'd had quite enough.

She slipped her hands into the water and then ran them through her hair. The beads of water felt nice as they slid along her scalp and down her neck. She'd cut her hair only a week ago, finally joining the trend that was probably half-over in America by now. Everything reached Egypt late. She was a world away from everything...

She reached for her bottle and took another sip, and then scolded herself for doing it. She needed to work in the morning - _early_ in the morning - and she already felt half-drunk.

Nobody knew she was half-Arabic.

She giggled to herself at the thought, though she didn't know why. Somehow that silly little fact was another secret, just like Beni used to be a secret. She hadn't done it on purpose. She knew she looked too white for most people to guess that she was a half-breed; occasionally people asked if she was Italian or even Mexican or Cuban. But ever since she started working at Nico's, most people just assumed she was Greek, with her dark brown hair and dark eyes and features that were just European enough.

Vera took a deep breath and held it, slipping under the water for a moment. She didn't want to think about being Arabic anymore. She didn't know why she'd thought of it in the first place...

Suddenly his face flashed before her eyes. Dark and handsome, and distinctively Arabic. Not like her. Her mind's eye traced over the tattoos across his forehead and his cheekbones, and then she pulled herself up above the water and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes and tried to blink him away.

"I don't want to think about you," she said because she was too tipsy to realize that was a silly thing to say aloud.

She ran her fingers through her hair again, pushing the wet locks away from her face. She wiped the water away from her eyes and face and blinked. The water was feeling too hot, just then. Hot and close and uncomfortable, like the memory of her husband. She was starting to pull herself out of the tub when a strange noise made her jump.

She braced herself on the wall to keep from slipping, and then there it was again. That knocking. She froze. It couldn't be.

She cast an angry glare at the wine bottle, and stepped out of the tub. She had to be imagining things. But then it came again, followed by the urgent voice:

"Vera!"

She reached over and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her slender body and padding over to the front door. She unlocked it and opened it a crack, and there he was. Glancing over his shoulder, the same as always.

Her hands felt numb as she held open the door for him. She couldn't bring herself to say a word. She stared at him when he gave her an irritated little look, and closed the door for her, flipping the lock. He was dressed in a new suit and he smelled like cologne and cigar smoke. His face was the closest to clean-shaven she'd ever seen it, though he held tight to his silly little moustache. A dirty smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked her over, water beaded on her skin and a threadbare little towel wrapped around her body.

"Boy," he said, "don't_ you_ know how to answer the door."

She finally closed her gaping mouth and ran her tongue thoughtfully over her lips. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, helping himself to a seat on her bed. He looked so smug. So smug and ready, as if she'd known he was coming and answered the door practically naked just for him.

"I was in the neighborhood. I went down to the Brass Camel to shoot some craps, and some, uh, old associates of mine recognized me. They think I owe them money, which is complete bullshit..."

Vera's mind snapped with sudden clarity, and she grimaced. "Oh, God, Beni, you didn't lead a bunch of thugs here, did you?"

But he wasn't listening to her. His gaze was sliding up her legs and down her arms, to her hand that was clutching at the towel. He frowned at it a moment before glancing up at her with an impish little grin.

"Why don't you take that silly thing off?"

But Vera's fingers tightened on the worn-out fabric. She chewed on her lip thoughtfully. She tried to fight through the cabernet haze to another clear thought.

"I saw you in the papers," she said quietly. She hadn't intended for her voice to sound so low and, well,_ charged_, but when she saw him take a little breath and run his tongue over his lips, she realized she might have stumbled upon something very valuable.

He tilted his head up to look at her smugly. "Oh, did you?"

She nodded, taking a little step forward. She watched him sit up in his seat a little, his eyes fixed on that hand still clutching the towel about her.

"I must say I'm a little surprised. I didn't think you'd be coming to see me ever again."

He glanced up into her eyes. "Well, here I am."

"Here you are."

He smiled at her, but his eyes were getting impatient. "So are you going to take that thing off for me?"

Vera took another little step forward, just outside of his reach. "I don't know. Will you take me to lunch tomorrow?"

He seemed surprised by the question, but quickly nodded his head. "If those are the conditions."

"They are."

He scoffed a little. "Everyone wants something for me now. Even you."

Vera swallowed hard, and let go of the towel.


	5. The Barbarous King

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the quote at the beginning is, of course, from The Wasteland, lines 21-26, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**The Barbarous King**

Vera felt odd sitting across the restaurant table from Beni. It was broad daylight, sizzling daylight at that, and the whole restaurant was crowded with people. Several stopped at stared at Beni; a few even dared to ask if he was the one they'd seen in the papers the other day. He grinned and soaked up the admiration like a proud child. Here, she'd never gone out with him before - never bought a sandwich or gone out for a drink with him - and this time, this very first time going out, all eyes were on them. She didn't know what to think. She'd never wanted anyone to know they were acquainted - had never wanted anyone to look at the pair of them curiously, and wonder if that weaselly little man was nailing her. She'd known he'd confirm their suspicions with a smirk or a hand on her thigh, and she just couldn't bear it. But now here she was, sitting across from him, with gawking eyes looking her over. She could almost hear their thoughts. _"Ugly little fellow, but what a lucky girl, snatching all that money up."_

Lucky indeed. If only she had the excuse of his money earlier. Nobody blamed a girl for sleeping with a selfish little rat of a man when he was wealthy. No one would blame her at all. They might think she was materialistic, or simple, or a waste of a pretty face. But they'd never blame her for it. Not like they would've when he was just a thief.

She glanced towards the front door nervously. Evelyn had given her their number on a slip of paper, and she'd borrowed Nico's phone on her break to tell them where she and Beni were having lunch. Surely they'd be here soon...

"You're awfully quiet."

His voice jerked her out of her thoughts. She glanced at him and gave him a little smile.

"It's a nice change from nagging me to leave," he added, taking a sip of his drink. "But you don't want me to leave now, do you?"

Vera leaned forward a little, and lowered her voice. "Why did you come over last night?"

Beni's brow furrowed in confusion. "I told you. I was in the neighborhood. I had to outrun some idiots. I know I told you."

"But why me?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I was tired of running and I knew you'd let me in."

Vera sighed, glancing at her hands. "I suppose that makes sense."

He watched her for a moment, and then his face settled into a sneer. "Did you think I was not coming back to you? Were you missing me?" His mocking sing-song made her stomach tighten.

Her eyes flashed up to his. "Of course not."

But his expression was unchanged. His eyes danced with amusement. "You got naked awfully fast for someone who didn't miss me."

Vera struggled to find the words in the midst of her horror. God, how could he say something like that in public? Her mouth gaped, but he just leaned back in satisfaction.

"You know, if you are not careful, I _won't_ come back to see you again. Every woman in this city wants me now, and none of them would dare play hard to get."

Her hands tightened into fists in her lap. She met his eyes with what she hoped was a cool expression. "Then go bother one of them. Maybe you've forgotten, but I'm a married woman."

Beni laughed, reduced to a fit of wheezing chortles that made a few people glance in their direction. When he looked at her again, he had tears of amusement in his eyes.

"Oh, you're married?" he said, mocking her again. "Who is the lucky man? I know I've never seen him."

Vera pressed her lips together, glancing towards the door again. Where _were_ they?

"But how about this," Beni was saying. She met his eyes reluctantly. "Whenever he shows up, be sure to let him know, from me, that I really appreciate him keeping his side of the bed empty for me."

He snickered some more to himself just as his salad was being served. She looked away from him to glare at the front door, too irritated to try her soup. She could still hear him chuckling, muttering sarcastic comments to himself in what was most certainly Hungarian. She was about to tell him to shut up, when the door swung open and her expected companions (finally) walked into the restaurant.

She glanced down and tried to appear nonchalant. With a shaking breath, she raised a spoonful of soup to her mouth, but it never made it past her lips.

"Damn it!" Beni muttered just a little too loudly, making her jump. She dropped her spoon in the bowl and met his eyes nervously.

"What is it?"

"Well," Rick's voice rang out. Vera looked up and suddenly all three of them were crowded in front of their table. "Fancy meeting you here."

Beni straightened in his chair and crossed his arm. "Yes. What a surprise."

"Mind if we sit?"

Beni started a protest, but Rick had already dropped down in the chair next to Beni's, and Evelyn had sat down next to Vera. Jonathan looked about for an empty chair, but all the tables around them were full. With an irritated sigh, he grumbled something about going to ask for a chair and walked off.

"Are you here to congratulate me?" Beni sneered.

Evelyn leaned over the table towards him. "Now you listen here, you little - "

"Ah, ah, ah," Beni interrupted. "You'd better be polite, or I'll have you kicked out."

"You can't do that," she said.

"Of course I can. I'm rich. I can do whatever I want."

He picked up his fork and took anther bite of his salad.

"Look, Beni, I don't care how rich you are," Rick said. "In fact, get as much money as you can from that treasure. It doesn't make any difference to me."

Beni swallowed his bite. "Good. Because I'm going to."

Evelyn huffed a sigh, but Rick stopped her with a look.

"All we want is just a little credit where credit is due."

Beni scoffed, looking at him sideways. "Forget it. Finder's keepers. I got back here first."

"Found one!" Jonathan announced, dragging a chair along behind him. He pulled himself up to the end of the table and took a seat. All attention was quickly drawn back to Beni.

"Now listen here," Evelyn said, her voice strained with irritation. "You think you have us under your thumb, but you haven't. What do you think is going to happen when people find out about the people who were with you, and start asking questions? Those Americans and Dr. Chamberlain have families, I'm sure. Someone's bound to come looking for them."

Beni met her eyes evenly. "I'll say I haven't seen them. People disappear all the time."

"It's going to look _awfully_ suspicious."

He kind of smiled, and leaned towards her. The pair of them stared at one another, measuring the other up. "Oh? And what are you going to tell them? That a mummy I served came along and sucked them dead? Are you going to drag out their rotten, dried-up bodies as evidence?"

Vera glanced between them uncomfortably. She supposed she'd helped them arrange this "chance" encounter because they seemed like nice people who wanted to put Beni in his place. But now that it was happening, the fight looked fixed in his favor.

"If you wanted evidence, maybe you should've grabbed some on your way out," he said with a smirk.

Evelyn gaped at him, and the words tumbled out. "Well - we did!" Her eyes turned irritably to Jonathan. "But_ somebody_ thought it'd be clever to lean his elbow on a switch and the whole place went under the sand - "

Beni's eyes widened, and he spat out a stream of Hungarian curses before he rose up out of his chair. He glared down at her and sputtered for the words in English.

"You did_ what?_ You did_ what_ to my city?"

People were turning and looking in their seats now. Vera stared steadily down at her soup and hoped no one was paying any attention to her.

"Do you have any idea how much it's going to cost to dig that city out of there!" he shouted, not even raising the statement to a question.

Evelyn stood up from her chair now, too, and looked him in the eye.

"Well, what do you want me to say? I'm sorry? I'm _not_ sorry! You're a dreadful little man and you deserve it. And if I'd known you were going to come back here and claim to be some - some archeological hero, I'd have pulled that lever myself!"

They were glaring each other down now, each of them breathing red. Vera glanced up and saw the nervous look on Rick's face. It was terribly quiet in the restaurant now, and she was starting to feel a little sick. She knew no one was paying her any attention, but surely all eyes would be on her, even moreso now, when they left.

Cautiously, Rick stood up, holding his hands out between the two of them as if to break up their leering match.

"Look, people, maybe we should just call it a day..."

Beni scoffed. "Yes, you all have done enough damage, don't you think?"

Evelyn shook an accusatory finger at him. "You just wait."

He gave her a sarcastic smile. "I'm still waiting on my 'comeuppance.'"

Her eyes narrowed. "Believe me, Beni, it's coming."

With that she whirled around and strode out the door, Rick and Jonathan at her heels.


	6. The Violet Hour

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the quote at the beginning of this chapter is, of course, from The Wasteland, lines 249-252, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

_She turns and looks a moment in the glass,  
Hardly aware of her departed lover;  
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:  
"Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over."_

**The Violet Hour**

Beni walked just a little too fast through the streets, dragging Vera along behind him. Complaints trailed out his mouth, right into her ears, the whole curious walk back. Vera wasn't one to miss the directions they were taking, and it was striking her as very odd.

"You know, everybody thinks it is so great, just _so great_ to be rich. 'All my problems will be over!' Instead you get worse problems. When I was poor everybody left me the hell alone. Now everybody thinks I owe them something..."

Vera wanted to point out that people didn't leave him alone when he was poor; that he was at her apartment at all times of the day or night because somebody was after him. Always somebody. But he was indulging himself in all the whiny self-pity he could muster, and he wouldn't have listened to her, anyway:

"Who do they think they are, anyway? O'Connell and his stupid British friends. They think they can just walk in and make me tell everyone they were there, too? I don't owe them anything. Not one goddamn thing. I don't owe anyone anything. Nobody's ever done anything for me, so they can all just go to hell."

And suddenly he was swinging open the door to her apartment buidling, and taking the stairs up two at a time. Vera wasn't sure what to say to him as she fished her keys out of her purse. He stood there, watching her impatiently as she met his eyes. The keys were in her hand, but she didn't really want to open the door and be obliged to let him inside.

"Well come on."

Vera took a breath and straightened. "It was really nice of you to walk me home."

He scoffed. "Walk you home, shit. Open the door. I want a drink."

Her heart started to pound nervously. "Aren't there drinks at the hotel or whatever lovely place you're staying at?"

Beni frowned at her in confusion. "Well, of course, but they charge too much."

Vera watched him another moment before sighing in defeat and unlocking the door. It occurred to her just then that there wasn't anything new about him, since he found fame and fortune. He was a shack with a fresh coat of paint. He had all the money in the world, but he gambled at a hole-in-the-wall like the Brass Camel? He was, allegedly, the wealthiest man on earth (or soon to be) and he wanted to drink cheap liquor in her cramped little apartment? He had more money than he knew what to do with, but he was too cheap to enjoy it.

He helped himself to her cupboards and fished out her gin and a jar of olives.

Vera paced the room slowly, unsure of where to settle herself. Beni had already dropped into a kitchen chair and was fishing an olive out of the vinegar with his fingers. He glanced up at her.

"Would you stop that? You're making me nervous."

She chewed on her lip, and finally took a reluctant seat across from him at the table. "Who were those people, at the restaurant?"

Beni grimaced, chasing his olives with a swig from the gin bottle. "The American was O'Connell. I was in the Legion with him. The British siblings are...I don't remember their names. It doesn't matter."

"And they were at Hamunaptra?"

He nodded, tipping the olive jar into his palm and accidentally pouring half the vinegar onto her table. She sighed and shot him a look, and got up to get a towel.

"What about the others they mentioned?"

"What?"

"Some Americans, and a doctor..."

Beni snorted, eyeing her suspiciously as she wiped up the vinegar from the table. "What difference does it make? We were all there. I came back with treasure. That's all there is."

Vera sighed, and he motioned at her with the bottle. "Why don't you have a drink?"

"I don't want a drink."

A smirk crept into the corner of his mouth, and he set the bottle down. She watched the way he leaned back in his chair, and knew what was coming.

"Then why don't you come sit in my lap?"

Vera crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't you have some place to be?"

He snickered a little. "Oh, come on. I took you out to lunch, didn't I?"

Her eyebrows rose incredulously. "You're joking, right? After all the meals I've given you?"

Beni stood up and meandered over to her. "I know you want to."

She stared up at him steadily. "I don't. Why don't you go find one of those women you were talking about? The ones who are 'dying' to have you?"

He scoffed. His voice was getting whiny now, "I've had them already. And they're all fakes. Screaming so much, my God. Nobody enjoys it_ that_ much."

"You're revolting, do you know that?"

He took her hand from the table and pulled her to a stand. She glared at him, but she didn't wrench out of his grasp. He met her eyes with unbearable amusement.

"Come on."

He started to pull her towards the bathroom, but she stopped in her tracks. "You know, I have a perfectly good bed over there -"

His eyes glinted back at her. "I like it in front of the mirror."

Vera wanted to hit him hard across his stupid little face, but she didn't. A strange part of her - the part that always seemed to make the decisions when she was with Beni - pushed her along after him, and suddenly there she was again, staring at herself in the mirror. At least she had clothes on this time.

He pulled her in front of him and stood behind her, and she watched his reflection in the glass. She watched him kiss her neck and watched his hands slip to the front of her blouse and start pushing the buttons out of their loops. She watched as if he was doing it to somebody else.

She saw him pull her ear to his lips, and heard him say in that awful, smug tone:

"If I'm so revolting, tell me to stop."

But she didn't tell him to stop. She watched herself lean back against him, and she didn't know why. Her blouse was open and untucked and he was tugging at her skirt and she wasn't about to tell him to -

A strange noise echoed through the apartment. Vera froze, meeting his eyes in the mirror now.

"Did someone just knock?"

It came again.

Vera's stomach sank, and she felt cold inside. She pushed away his hands when he tried to keep going, and started buttoning her blouse as fast as she could.

"Oh, come on, Vera," he was whining. But she was tucking in her blouse. She was looking at herself in the mirror and adjusting her hair.

Another knock.

"I'm coming!" she shouted. Beni shot her a little look before his eyes became big and desperate.

_"Vera,_ stay with me. Do you have any idea what it does to a man when you make him stop halfway -"

"I've heard it hurts," she snapped in a little whisper, glancing nervously out of the bathroom. She whirled around to face him. "You stay here, do you hear me? You stay right here, and don't you dare leave this room, or_ so help me_, Beni -"

"Okay, okay. I get it. What's the big deal, anyway?"

Vera didn't answer him as she hurried out of the bathroom and slammed the door closed. There were only two people who came knocking at her door. And one of them was already in her bathroom.

She tried to catch her breath by the time she made it to the door, but she simply couldn't slow it down. She was too anxious, too nervous. And _God,_ why did he have to come while Beni was here?

She opened the door, and there he was.

Every time she saw him, he exceeded the tattered memory she had of him. She always _thought_ she remembered how handsome he was, and the kind softness in his dark eyes. But she was mistaken. He was more handsome. He was more kind. And he made her more sick than the memory of him did.

"Ardeth," she said quietly, not quite ready to step out of the doorway and let him in. "What brings you here?"

"My love..." He lifted a hand towards her face, but she turned away. She didn't look up for a moment. She didn't want to see how much it hurt him.

It always hurt him.

Sighing, Vera stepped out of the doorway, and he walked cautiously inside. He was studying her with his night-colored gaze, but she pretended not to notice.

"I like your hair," he said. He laughed, low and quiet in his throat. She could hear the nervousness in his voice. "Though I don't know how I feel about my wife having shorter hair than me. Perhaps I should cut mine?"

Vera pressed her lips together. She glanced up into his eyes, so that he could see her pointed expression. "Oh? Did Fatima cut her hair, too?"

She watched for the hurt this time, but he only looked tired. He let out a long sigh.

"No...her hair is still very long."

Vera scoffed. She scanned the room desperately for something to do - for something to occupy her hands and most of her mind. She walked over to the kitchen table and adjusted the chairs.

"Why are you here?" she asked again, her voice sterner this time. He took a few little steps towards her, and stopped in the middle of the room.

He waited for her to look up. Vera let a minute pass before she steeled her spine and met his gaze. The hurt and the kindness in it was too overwhelming to bear. But she looked into his eyes, like she had so many times. He wouldn't believe her if she wasn't looking in his eyes.

"I miss you desperately," he said, his throat tightening. "Please come back to me...come back to the tribe."

Vera clenched her teeth against the tears that wanted to stream down her face. She wasn't going to cry. Not this time. She had cried too many times.

"You know I can't do that."

He took a determined step towards her. "Why? You know I love you. You know I don't care about...Vera, I would rather be childless with you than have a dozen children with her."

Vera sucked in a breath, tightening her jaw. She closed her eyes for a second, for only a second. And then she looked at him again with strengthened resolve.

"Except that you_ do_ have a family with her," she said quietly. Her tone was so bitter that she had to stop herself from grimacing at the taste of the words.

His expression jerked with something like irritation. "Vera, you know that the line cannot be broken - "

"Yes, yes, I know!" She strode behind the table, putting it between them, and crossed her arms. "I know all about that! My God!"

He took a step towards the table. "Then why are you being so unreasonable? There was nothing I could do!"

"I _know_ that."

Ardeth leaned across the table, and she took a step back. He stared at her with something like anger, that quickly faded to desperation.

And he really_ was_ desperate.

"Please, Vera," he said quietly. "Why must you break my heart? I love you. Every day is like agony. I just want you to be with me again."

She shook her head. She could say the words, but they were worn-out and tired. She'd said them too many times. If she said to him again that she couldn't bear to live out there with his other wife and his children, he wouldn't listen. He'd be back again. Again and again and again. As if at some point, she was going to love him more than the pain of having to share him with Fatima; of having to see him hold and kiss and play with children that weren't hers.

No, he'd be back just the same.

"Don't you love me at all?" he asked.

She met his eyes, and her body started to tremble. A horrible thought whispered through her mind - a thought that had never before occurred to her. She stared hard into his eyes, and fought back the nausea that twisted inside her.

She glanced down at the gin bottle and the half-finished jar of olives on the table. And then she looked up at him again.

"I've been sleeping with another man. I've been doing it for months now."

Vera watched the color drain from his face. He took a numb step backwards, and his jaw went slack. She couldn't read the expression in his eyes. But when he spoke, when he finally spoke, she realized what she saw.

"How could you? How could you do that to me?"

He was broken.

The tears were begging to flow now, but she held them back and let them burn her eyes instead. She met his gaze, so defeated and pained, and something inside her relaxed.

"How could you do it to_ me?"_ she said, her voice so calm it shocked her.

Ardeth's glance fell to the floor, and his whole countenance seemed to crumble. He looked up at her once more, and then turned and crossed the room without another word. She watched him let himself out, and she let her trembling body fall back against the wall now. Her palms were clammy and she tried to just focus on breathing, just focus on breathing and make the world stop for a moment. For only a moment...

Before she knew what she was doing, she strode across the room and locked the door. And then she was turning and walking quickly, crossing the room, down the narrow hall, and throwing open the bathroom door. Beni's arrogant little smirk greeted her.

"So there is a husband, after all -"

"Shut up," she told him. "Shut up and don't say another word to me."

And she kissed him hard before he could manage a stupid retort.


	7. To Carthage Then I Came

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**To Carthage Then I Came**

"You know, I usually have to pay a whore extra to do that."

Vera closed her eyes and leaned her head against the pillow. She took a deep drag of her cigarette and tried to make the sickness stop twisting in her stomach. She kept seeing Ardeth's face in her mind - kept picturing the way it fell in such incredible hurt. _I've been sleeping with another man. I've been doing it for months now. _She wondered what he was thinking now, what thoughts were flying through his head as his horse raced into the desert. At least, that's how she kept imagining it. Him on his black horse, urging it faster and faster...

She knew he loved her. She did know that. He didn't think she believed him when he said it, but she knew. He wouldn't keep coming back for her if he didn't love her. She was an entirely useless commodity, but for his love. Still, the pain of his betrayal ached, and she couldn't escape it. No, it wasn't his fault that he had an obligation to take another wife, to have a son to one day lead the tribe. But certainly she_ could_ blame him for marrying Fatima, one of the most beautiful women in the tribe. If he loved her so, why not marry someone ugly and plain? Why crush her heart with the thought of him and lovely Fatima, with her golden skin and black hair and brilliant, strange green eyes?

Vera blinked away the memory of Fatima's lovely face and took another breath from her cigarette. She wanted to be calm again. She wanted to go back to the comfort of absent months, where for days she might not think of him simply because she didn't see him.

_How could you do that to me? _But how could _he? _What about the pain he had caused? Fatima bore him a son barely ten months after their wedding. His duty was accomplished. So why, then, was she pregnant less than a year after having the first? One son satisfied the elders of the tribe. If he loved her so, how could he keep going back to Fatima? She wasn't getting pregnant on her own.

"Did you ever do that for your husband?"

Vera turned her head and looked at Beni, her expression firmly confused as she tried to shake away the haze in her mind. He was looking at her with the nastiest little smirk on his face.

"Why are you asking me about him?"

Beni took the cigarette from her and breathed in a drag. "You know, his voice was familiar..."

Vera sighed, running a hand through her hair and turning to gaze up at the ceiling. "I don't know what you want to know."

"I want to know who he is. And I want to know if you did the same favors for him you do for me."

She took a breath and rolled over on her side, looking at him. How different he was from Ardeth. Bony and pale; he wasn't much taller or larger than her, and she was by no means a robust woman. Ardeth used to encompass her in his strong, dark arms, and she'd feel small and safe against his chest. But Beni never held her. When he was done he laid there by himself and complained that the room was too hot now.

"His name is Ardeth Bay. He's the chieftain of the Med-Jai tribe."

Beni frowned thoughtfully, blowing a stream of smoke at the ceiling. "Why is that familiar?"

Vera reached over and took one of the religious pendants from off of his chest, turning it over for a moment in her hand. "I imagine because you were at Hamunaptra. And the Med-Jai are sworn to protect the city."

He swatted her hand away from the pendant and rolled over to look at her with wide eyes. "Wait...those guys in black? With the tattoos on their faces?"

She nodded, and he tried to pin back a smile for a meager second before bursting into laugher. He said something to himself in amused Hungarian, pointing at her with a mocking finger. She frowned at him.

"Well, I don't know what's so funny about it."

He choked back his snickers for long enough to manage, "You're a desert princess! I've been screwing a desert princess!"

Vera slapped him lightly on his arm. "Stop it."

"Aren't you Italian or something?"

She shook her head, irritated. "I'm half-Arabic. I figured you knew that."

He gave her an incredulous look. "How would I know that?"

"I know you're Hungarian."

Beni snorted, and started to dust off the end of his cigarette on the bed, but she shot him a look. "Let me have that."

He handed it over, and she turned to snuff it out in the ashtray on the bedside table. The ashtray she only kept for him.

"So, what? You're half-Arabic and half what?"

Vera tried not to look surprised as she rolled over to look at him again. He'd never really asked her about herself before, and she'd always preferred it that way. She didn't want him to know too much. She'd never wanted this to be too much.

"American."

"Psh. Americans aren't anything."

She sighed. "Well, my _father_ was an American. I didn't think you were asking about my heritage."

Beni shrugged, leaning over the side of the bed and fishing his carton of cigarettes from the pocket of his pants.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"What question?"

He eyed her, and his mouth twisted in a dirty smirk around his cigarette as he lit it. He said between his teeth, "Did you ever do that for him?"

Her brow furrowed. "Do what?"

His eyebrows jerked a little, and her stomach started twisting again. She gave him a disgusted look.

"I don't see how it's any of your business what my husband and I did in bed."

Beni breathed in a drag and shrugged. "I am just curious."

Vera let out a long sigh. She didn't really want to say anything on the topic, but for some reason she couldn't keep the words behind her lips:

"Being with my husband was completely different from being with you. And no, I never...did_ that_ for him. When you're trying to have a baby, you don't waste your time fooling around like that. After a while, it's no fun at all."

He propped himself up on his elbow, and his eyes scanned her face before setting into her gaze. She stared back at him, unnerved by his perplexing expression.

"That sounds like a bigger waste of time than what we just did."

Vera laughed humorlessly. "Well, it turned out to be, since I can't...you know."

Beni sighed, rolling over onto his back. "I don't know what you want a baby for, anyway. The world is awful, and there's already too many people on it. And they all think everybody owes them something."

"I don't think that."

He turned his head to look at her again, and his eyes burned steadily into hers. "Oh, don't you? You don't think God or somebody owes you a baby?"

Vera sucked in a little breath and tried not to let his words sting.

"I'd rather die than have a baby right now."

"Why?"

She swallowed hard. "Because it would be yours. And there would be no point anymore. He's already married another wife. He already has other children. We can't go back to being just the two of us."

Beni finished his cigarette and scoffed. "Turn out the light."

Vera snuffed out his finished cigarette in the ashtray and turned the light out. She heard the mattress creak as he rolled over on his other side.

"I am glad you can't have a baby," he said in the darkness. "It's one less thing to worry about."

Something inside her stopped aching, and it surprised her. For months she'd let him into her bed without a thought to any long term consequences, and she knew that was due to her infertility. It was strange to think of it as being anyone's good fortune, but there was something strangely relaxing about his words. Her body had been a painful curse to Ardeth and to their marriage. There was something nice about it being the opposite.

Even if it was only for a selfish rat like Beni.

She made out his form in the dark, just before closing her eyes.

"Yeah," she said, "one less thing."


	8. Hot Water at Ten

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**Hot Water at Ten**

"Well, Vera, I owe you an apology."

Two weeks. Exactly two weeks had gone by since the night Ardeth came by and she'd told him about her on-going affair. Two weeks since Beni had stayed over the entire night, after asking her about her husband. Two weeks since she'd made him eggs and he'd complained about having to take his archeological team out into the desert to begin excavation on Hamunaptra. He said he'd be gone for a while. It was the first time he'd ever given her any kind of inclination that he might be coming back.

And this day, two weeks later, she'd woken up alone and wasn't thinking about Beni or Hamunaptra or even (gratefully) Ardeth at all. She'd gotten dressed and pinned her hair into waves and put on her make-up and hadn't given a thought to anything but getting to the bakery on time. The morning was cool and gray and she hummed a song she'd heard somewhere long ago. And then she walked into the bakery and hung up her coat and hat, and Nico looked up from the paper, and said those words:

"Well, Vera, I owe you an apology."

She frowned curiously; something inside her felt on-edge from the tone of his voice.

"Oh?"

Nico sighed, glancing at her sheepishly. He held out the paper to her, and she took it, her eyes immediately finding the story he'd been reading. She felt her jaw drop a little.

"I have to say, from the mysterious way you were acting, I assumed you were, um...well, I guess I just didn't think your relationship with him was...you know..."

Vera wasn't listening to him. It was rare for Nico not to know what to say to someone, and had she been paying more attention, she might have reassured him with a smile. But she was so taken aback by the article that she couldn't bring herself to even look up. Was she dreaming? Or was that really Beni in that picture, standing next to a beautiful Egyptian woman? _New millionaire Bence Gabor to marry archeologist Meela Nais. _God, he was already a millionaire, now?

"And anyway, I'm sorry I thought something about you that clearly isn't true."

She looked up, finally, and forced a little smile, not quite meeting his eyes.

"It's alright," she said awkwardly, folding the paper and handing it back to him. She wanted to tell him that he hadn't made any assumptions that weren't true, but what would that do? Enough people knew about her and Beni Gabor. Too many people. And what would he think, if he knew she'd been sleeping with him, long before he was rich and famous and worth it? She'd look like a fool, now that he was engaged to someone else.

Lord, Beni engaged. Could it get any more ridiculous? Beni who didn't like people and thought having a baby was a waste of time. Since when did people like that get married?

On her break she found herself staring into the proud, unsmiling face of his future bride. The article didn't have much to say about her. She was an Egyptian, the daughter of some wealthy and influential native, and she'd been educated in England. The article was quick to note that she'd been promoted to project supervisor, much to the chagrin of her older, male colleagues. And the journalist wasn't one to miss that Meela's ring was a little shabby, coming from someone who was spending as much as he was on heavy machinery to dig out the city.

It didn't say when the wedding was.

With a sigh, Vera folded the paper and tossed it in the trashcan. She'd had enough of that. Enough of him. And clearly, he'd had enough of her. He had finally bored himself of her, and this was it. He'd found someone more interesting - interesting enough to marry, which was an achievement in itself for Beni. Vera found herself chuckling quietly. Apparently, Meela didn't scream too much.

She wasn't sure what to think about this strange development, but it occupied her mind the entire day. She thought she should feel betrayed, but she couldn't bring herself to. It was no surprise that Beni was sleeping with other women. She'd always assumed he had, and she'd never cared. She didn't like him well enough to care. And, while she supposed that she was a little snubbed, having apparently missed the opportunity to be a millionaire's wife, she couldn't even worry herself over that. Money or no money, she wouldn't have married Beni had he asked.

Probably.

When she thought about it, she wasn't too sure. Well, of course, she couldn't marry him in the first place, since she was still married to Ardeth. But if he'd asked her to play house, to come and live with him in whatever fancy place he was staying...maybe she would have agreed. Maybe not.

She tried to push all thoughts of him and his wedding out of her head as she took her things off of the coatrack and said goodbye to Nico. The afternoon was sizzling and she was starving for a sandwich, and she was so focused on getting over to her favorite bistro that she ran right into someone walking into the bakery. She glanced up to beg pardon, and met Jonathan's surprised eyes.

"Oh, hello," she said.

"Were you leaving?"

Vera nodded. "I was going to get a sandwich. But Nico still has some sourota if that's what you were coming in for - "

"It wasn't," Jonathan said quickly. "I was actually coming here to see you."

Vera had trouble hiding her surprise. "Oh, well...I was just on my way to get a sandwich. You're welcome to join me."

He smiled and offered to carry her coat for her, since it was "bloody hot out," and she let him. They walked together in silence, the blazing sunlight beating them both hard over the head. Vera wanted to ask him what he wanted to see her about, but every time she glanced over at him, she lost her nerve. She'd only really met him the one time (besides serving him at the bakery, of course), and she supposed if he had any business with her, he'd bring it up on his own terms.

They stepped into the cool relief of the restaurant, and Vera ordered her usual tomato and mozzerella sandwich. She was surprised when Jonathan ordered himself something, too, and shooed her hand away when she went for her money. With a little scolding smile, he dismissed her protests and bought her lunch. They found a seat at an empty table and waited for the sandwiches. And still, Jonathan said nothing.

"Well," Vera said at last, trying not to sound too nervous. "You have me in all kinds of suspense."

Jonathan sighed. "Yes, I suppose I have..." He leaned forward a little, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Listen, Vera, there's something I'd very much like to talk to you about."

"Alright."

He glanced around the restaurant anxiously before looking back to her again. "But I think you'd better have a drink first."

Vera eyed him curiously. "Okay..."

Jonathan waved over a waitor and asked for a scotch. Vera said she'd have what he was having, and Jonathan waited until they had their drinks to speak again.

"What I'm about to tell you is very odd. Drink up, my good girl."

She chuckled a little and took a sip.

"I don't know what all Beni has told you about our time in Hamunaptra, but it was most unusual. You see, there's this old curse about a mummy -"

"Yes," Vera interrupted. "I know all about that."

Jonathan nodded, taking a sip of his drink. He watched her for a moment before telling her in a hushed tone, "Well, it's true. It's all quite true."

She glanced down at her hands. She was about to tell him that she knew that, but then she'd have to explain _how,_ and she really wasn't in the mood for bringing up Ardeth.

"We raised a mummy from the dead, this Imhotep fellow, and he...well, he killed the other people Beni was with. And Beni, the blackguard, he was Imhotep's little...helper, or something or other. And we only barely made it out of there alive, after destroying the blasted thing."

Vera nodded slowly. It made sense. Beni had mentioned something about a mummy at that lunch that the Carnahans and O'Connell interrupted, though she had (again) incorrectly assumed that he was being glib. Everyone knew about the curse of the mummy. But very few people knew it was true.

"You don't believe me."

Vera met his eyes, and held them until he knew she was being sincere. "No, I do believe you. I do."

Jonathan let out a relieved sigh. "I figured you'd think I was off my rocker. So did Evy and O'Connell. They didn't see any point in telling you, but I thought, perhaps..."

She looked at him curiously, and he cleared his throat before telling her sheepishly:

"I thought perhaps you'd be inclined to help us again, if you knew what was at stake."

Vera took another sip from her drink. "What is it you're needing help with?"

Jonathan started to say something, but then their food arrived. He waited until everything was served and the waitor was back behind the counter before turning to speak with her again.

"We have a friend on the archeological crew. Or had. He quit after that...little strumpet was promoted to supervisor. Beni's instructed them to burn any mummies they come across, which, I suppose, would remove all fear of bringing that awful bugger back to life again. Except...everyone involved is quite ambitious, as you might imagine, and Nigel - that's our friend - seems to think this Meela has an agenda all her own. Beni's letting her do whatever she wants, since all he cares about is the gold, anyway. And, well, we're all a bit nervous that she'll bring back Imhotep on accident."

Vera nodded slowly. "I see."

Jonathan leaned forward even further, so that his face was almost touching hers. He motioned at her, and she came a little closer, letting him speak softly in her ear:

"We think...perhaps, we might be able to keep a good eye on things if Evy joins the crew. Only we don't think Beni is particularly inclined towards hiring her on..."

Vera sucked in a little breath. "I don't know if I can help you with that."

Jonathan shrugged. "You might try."

She bit her lip. "I don't even know if he'll come to see me again."

He leaned away from her, reaching deep into first one pocket, and then the other, before finally finding the object he was looking for in his suit jacket. He handed her a little card, and she held it up to her face. It was a business card for Cleopatra's Temple, the most decadent hotel/casino in town. Scrawled in the corner was a room number.

"That's where he is," Jonathan said. "Maybe...you could try going to see_ him_, instead."


	9. So Elegant, So Intelligent

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**So Elegant, So Intelligent**

Vera hadn't been so nervous since her wedding night.

She felt sort of lost, wandering about her apartment in a robe. It was already eight o'clock. She'd told herself it was better to get there a little late, but not too late. And she'd asked Nico for her first day off since she started working for him. She wasn't sure what was going to happen, but she didn't want the impending pressure of an early morning nagging her in the back of her mind.

She didn't know what to wear. None of her clothes were particularly showy or racy. Everything was sensible and classic, comfortable enough to spend the day baking in, but nice enough to wear out to lunch. She didn't even own any especially high heels. When she lived in the desert, she'd dressed like the other Med-Jai women. And she'd only had a little money when she moved to Cairo, so she'd never spent it on garish clothes. She never went out at night, so she'd never had any need of cocktail dresses or gowns.

Perhaps she should have gone shopping. But it was too late for that now. She supposed it didn't really matter what she wore, as long as she looked nice..._And as long as it comes off quickly_, she could almost hear him saying with his slimy little smirk. Vera's body tensed uncomfortably. How odd. How very odd to be doing this - to be dressing and primping herself to go and see _him_. She had never tried to find him before, even when he stole the necklace Ardeth had given her the night before their wedding. She didn't have the nerve to venture too far into his parts of town on her own, and somehow, she supposed she had known he would be back anyway.

What would he think of her, knocking on his hotel room door? He'd know she wanted something. Of course he would. He knew as well as she did that she'd never sought him out. It had always been him at her door. She wouldn't come to him without cause.

Vera slipped back into the bathroom, looking over her face again. She'd done her make-up and hair over an hour ago. That had been easy. But what to wear...

She caught sight of herself in the mirror, and her stomach turned. The thought made her tremble; she'd never done anything so daring, and the thought of doing it for Beni made her even more apprehensive. But it was eight-thirty now, and she had to take the cab all the way across town, and with her coat on, no one would even suspect...

Vera hurried into her kitchen and poured a little glass of gin. She stared down at it for a moment and attempted to steady her heartbeat before throwing it back in one shot. Her throats burned, and her mind tingled just enough. Without another thought, she threw off her robe and pulled on her coat, slipped on her shoes, and nearly ran out the door.

The ride to the hotel was agonizing. The driver kept glancing back at her, and Vera was terrified that he knew somehow. She ignored him and gazed out the window, watching the buildings get more grand in the darkness. When she stepped into the hotel, she checked the room number on the card and breathed a ruthless sigh. This was it.

She told the elevator operator which floor she wanted, and she leaned against the wall. It suddenly occurred to her that he might not be alone. Jonathan had assured her, from his friend Nigel, that Meela was still out in the desert...but that hardly meant Beni was lacking company. God, what would she do then? She tried to push the thought out of her head and forced a little smile for the operator before starting down the hall towards his room.

Vera stood in front of his door now, her hand raised to knock. She leaned in just a little, to see if she could hear voices inside, but all was quiet. Light was coming in from under the door, though, so surely...

She scoffed at herself. She doubted Beni had ever deliberated like this in front of her door. He just knocked and knocked and knocked until she pulled herself from bed and let him in. And if she wasn't home, during the day, he'd break in. So why was she so cautious at his door?

Straightening, Vera tapped loudly on the door, and waited. And then she knocked again.

"Go away."

That voice was certainly his. And certainly irritable.

"Beni," she said. "Let me in."

It was quiet for a moment, and then she heard footsteps, and the door unlock. He opened it a little and leered out at her in only his trousers, eyes bloodshot and face set firmly in a scowl. His eyes lit with something like surprise for a moment before resuming their stony glare.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he muttered.

Vera ran her tongue over her lips and glanced over her shoulder. She might have laughed at herself, under different circumstances. "I'm here to see you, of course. Are you...alone?"

He nodded grimly and stepped aside. Vera slipped into the hotel room, and heard him close and lock the door behind her. It was quite the place: big windows and marble floors and a taxidermied hippo head hanging over the enormous bed. The room was decorated with replicas of Egyptian artifacts and modern-looking furniture, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling.

"This is some hotel room."

He scoffed, muttering something to himself in Hungarian. He crossed the room back to the bed and collapsed on it.

"So what do you want?"

Vera shifted her weight, trying to distract herself by looking around the room.

"I just came to see you..."

"Why?"

She wrung her hands nervously, meeting his eyes as best she could. He looked pitiful laying there, his face half-buried in the comforter and his eyes so very red. She took a step nearer to him.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he grumbled. "I just have a new pain in my ass and I have been drinking since noon."

Vera bit her lip, and then crossed the room towards a little hallway that surely let onto a bathroom. She found a half-drank cup of something that smelled like whiskey, and dumped it out and rinsed it and filled it with fresh, cold water. She hurried back into the room and took a seat next to him on the bed.

"You'd better drink this."

He shot her a look, but she glared right back at him and pulled him up to a sitting position. He grumbled at her in Hungarian, but he drank the water. Vera quickly got up and refilled his glass, and he drank another. She got up to get a third, but he shook his head.

"Stop. I'm sick of drinking things."

Vera sighed and sat back down next to him. He looked her over with his irritable gaze.

"So are you going to take off your coat and stay a while?"

She felt her cheeks growing hot with color, and she glanced at her hands. "Oh, um, maybe in a minute."

He sighed loudly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "So what are you doing here? This is the third time I am having to ask."

Vera cleared her throat. "Well...I had something to ask you, but now doesn't seem like a very good time."

He snorted. "Oh, you think so?"

His sarcastic tone grated on her nerves, and she found herself sitting up a little straighter. "You know, for all the times I've let you in and given you a place to stay, you're being awfully rude to me."

Beni raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I am being rude? You come to my door and don't have anything to say to me. And who cares what you have done for me? Did I ever put a knife on you and make you let me in? No. I never made you do anything. So if there is something you want me to do for you, you had better get on your knees and ask for it."

Vera took a breath, staring back at him for a minute. Her mind raced through a hundred different things to say, but nothing seemed right. Swallowing hard, she stood up in front of him and started undoing the buttons of her coat. He watched her curiously as she threw off the coat and stood before him in only her undergarments and shoes. When she looked up at his face, his expression had brightened considerably. He sat up a little and looked her over.

"My favor is for someone else, actually," she said quietly, pushing her hair behind her ear.

"Oh?"

Vera tried to steady her breathing. "Those people who came to the restaurant when we were at lunch...they came to see me."

Beni smirked in amusement, but didn't say anything.

"The woman...Evelyn...she wants to be a part of your archeological team. The one that's digging up Hamunaptra."

He snorted, letting out a few wheezing chortles. "Are you serious?"

Vera nodded. "They're concerned about Imhotep being resurrected again. Someone in your crew might do it accidentally - "

"The mummies are being burned," he said with a wave of his hand.

She nodded again. "Yes, but...what if they come across the books first?"

Beni let out a loud sigh. "I don't know. But if Evelyn wants to be on my crew, maybe she should be here in her underwear instead of you."

Vera crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to look as frustrated as she was feeling. "Listen, I'm a member of the Med-Jai tribe. It's every bit as important to me as it is to them."

His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before realization hit him. "Oh, right, your husband the desert chief..."

She sighed. "It would mean a lot to me if you hired her on."

Beni's face broke into an ugly grin. "Oh, would it? How much would it mean to you?"

Vera was feeling just a little sick. The nagging thought in the back of her mind told her she was playing prostitute, but she dismissed it as quickly as she could. She'd slept with him for no reason at all for longer than most people could rationalize. What could it hurt, getting a little in return? And for the good of mankind, no less...

Even she couldn't fool herself into indulging that thought. But this _was_ important.

She walked over to him slowly and leaned down to give him a kiss. He reached a hand up to touch the side of her face gently, in a strange show of affection she'd never felt from him before. She opened her eyes and looked at him curiously, and he stared evenly back. He ran his tongue over his lips and said softly:

"I remember saying I wanted you on your knees."


	10. Them Pills

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the lines from this chapter are, of course, from the poem, lines 158-164, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

_I can't help it, she said, pulling a long face,  
It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.  
(She's had five already, and nearly died of young George.)  
The chemist said it would be alright, but I've never been the same.  
You _are_ a proper fool, I said.  
Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I said,  
What you get married for if you don't want children?  
_

**Them Pills**

Vera woke up with a start, though she wasn't sure what it was that had woken her in the first place. She opened her eyes and found herself staring up at the long, yellowed teeth of a hippopotamus. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and she tried to make sense of where she was and what was going on, but a noise like yelling made her flinch. Next to her, Beni bolted upright, his eyes wide and confused. The yelling came again, and Vera realized it was in a language she didn't know. She turned to look at him questioningly, and his face fell as he whined out something in Hungarian. He reached a hand up to his face and rubbed away the sleep.

"What is that?" she asked.

He shot her a look and held a finger up to his lips. More yelling.

Beni let out a grumbling sigh and yelled something back. From his tone, Vera would've guessed he was telling whoever it was to go to hell...though from the scandalized gasp on the other side of the door, she had to assume it was something stronger. A stream of angry yells came back at him, and he scoffed. He yelled something else, and then leaned over to the bedside table for his phone.

"What's going on?"

Beni sighed, the phone pressed against his ear as he jerked a thumb at the door. "My new pain in the ass."

She could hear someone at the lobby pick up, and he started to complain about security and what it was going to cost him, when another voice broke through and interrupted. Vera's head jerked up in surprise, and Beni's eyes widened. This voice spoke English, and she recognized it.

"Hey, Beni, open up!"

Beni hung up the phone and glanced up at the ceiling. "Lord, what have I ever done to deserve this?"

Vera frowned thoughtfully. "Was that Rick O'Connell?"

She jumped suddenly at the sound of cracking wood, and the door swinging open and bouncing against the wall. Vera gasped a little and pulled the covers over her body, wishing desperately that she could hide. Her face was growing hot and her palms were sweaty; it was one thing to admit to sleeping with Beni - it was another thing entirely to be walked in on.

She felt a few sets of eyes and heard the murmured apologies, and glanced up sheepishly to see Rick and Jonathan's eyes steadly downcast. Evelyn gazed at a wall awkwardly, but a strange woman pushed past all three of them, eyes blazing. She gave Vera one hard little glance and turned her glare immediately to Beni, spitting out a stream of foreign words that sounded particularly venomous. She pointed accusingly at Vera a few times, but never once took her eyes off of Beni. He threw his hands up and said something in an exasperated tone before turning his glare to Rick.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Rick's eyes shot up, and he took a step to avoid glancing at Vera.

"We need to talk about what's going on at Hamunaptra."

Beni groaned, turning a sharp glare around the room. "Can I put on some fucking pants first?"

Vera nodded gratefully for a moment before realizing that she didn't have any clothes with her. She felt a migraine growing in her temples. Beni growled an explanation to the woman, and the four of them shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind them. Beni let out a loud sigh, and turned his narrowed eyes to her. In a flash, he had his hands around her throat and pinned her to the bed. Vera's eyes widened and she struggled to catch her breath.

"Did you bring them here?"

She tried to shake her head and couldn't. "No," she managed. "Of course not."

He brought his face down close to hers. "You know, I have enough to worry about with goddamn Ibolya and her bastard son. I don't need O'Connell and his friends, too."

Vera tried to take a deep breath, but her whole body shook. Beni had never made a move to harm her before, and for the first time she was seriously met with the realization that he was a criminal.

"I don't know why they're here," she said carefully. "Jonathan came and asked me to talk to you about hiring Evelyn, and he knew you were here. I don't have anything to do with them being here now."

He gave her a little shake and let her go, shifting his weight off of her. He muttered something to himself in Hungarian and got off the bed, picking around the room for his clothes.

Vera swallowed hard and tried not to allow herself to feel frightened of him. "I don't suppose you have any women's clothes lying around here..."

He scoffed. "I think Meela left a robe in the bathroom."

Vera felt a little queasy as she got up and crossed the room perfectly naked. She ignored Beni's gaze as he watched her and slipped gratefully into the bathroom, looking herself over in the mirror. She caught a glimpse of something hanging from the door, and realized quickly that it was Meela's robe. She felt very odd and even a little guilty, pulling the black, silky thing over her shoulders and tying it about her waist. It was beautiful, decorated with Chinese dragons embroidered in gold and violet and tourquoise, and it suited her coloring well (though she suspected it suited Meela's even better).

She looked at herself, wrapped in the robe, and tried to picture Meela in it...staying in this room, sleeping in that bed...how very odd. How very odd to be where another woman was supposed to be. She wondered, just then, if Fatima had felt this way. If Fatima had ever felt odd, taking her place next to Ardeth, kissing the lips that she had kissed, feeling him moving in the dark, secret places, where only she had known him...

Vera ran her tongue over her lips and tried to push the thoughts away. Fatima hadn't cared. She was a wife, with just as much of a right to Ardeth as she had. Putting on Meela's robe wasn't the same thing at all.

She met her own eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see that her make-up hadn't been smeared beyond repair. Her hair was a mess - frizzed and mussed in the back from a night spent on her back. Though, she supposed, that was the nice thing about short hair. A little water and a comb, and it was presentable again.

She heard the door to the hotel room open, and then voices. She took a little breath and wished that the robe was longer, and then decided to forget about it and left the bathroom. She found a seat on the edge of the bed next to Jonathan and pretended to be invisible. He leaned in to whisper:

"You know you could have gotten dressed, love."

Vera swallowed hard and glanced at her hands. All she could say was, "Yes, I suppose..."

She could feel a cold glare and looked up to meet the sharp, gray-ish eyes of the woman...the one Beni had called by a name she was hopeless to remember. She was a pretty woman, or would have been. Her mouth was lined and her brow was furrowed; she was the sort of woman aged by a hard life. Vera imagined she was quite lovely as a teenager, but lost her loveliness much too soon. She was probably in her twenties but looked over thirty, and kept her hair tied away from her face in a long, reddish brown braid.

Beni glanced around the room and sighed, his gaze landing on the woman. He said something to her, and she snapped something back. His eyes widened, and he crossed the room over to her, took her by the wrist, and dragged her to her feet. She protested the entire time, reaching for his face with her nails, but he managed to throw her out of the room and shout something down the hall. She shouted something back.

"Oh, good luck going to the papers when you can't speak English, idiot!"

Jonathan looked at Vera in confusion, but she could only shrug.

Rick watched him with interest as he returned to his seat.

"What was that all about?"

Beni shot him a look. "What do you care? Or is she one of your new causes, too?"

Rick held up his hands. "I'm only here about Hamunaptra."

"Yeah," Beni said, pulling a carton of cigarette from his pocket. "What about it?"

Evelyn sat up a little straighter and leaned towards him. "Listen, you know as well as we do that Imhotep could be resurrected by your crew."

Beni let out a loud groan. "How many times do I have to say it? We're burning the mummies. Burning them. That means Imhotep."

"But it could still happen," she said persistently. "They could find the books first, and then he could be resurrected, and we'd be back in the whole mess we were in a few weeks ago -"

"So?" he said. Evelyn gasped a little, and Rick looked at him incredulously.

"Really, Beni? 'So'? Do you need a refresher on what happened?"

Beni scoffed. "Apparently you do, my friend. You may have forgotten, but Imhotep and I were on very good terms."

Evelyn crossed her arms over her chest, and Rick's hands tightened into fists. Vera heard Jonathan let out a long sigh next to her.

"So you would just...let them bring him back?" Evelyn said.

Beni shrugged. "It is not going to happen. He's going to be a heap of ashes. But if it did happen...it wouldn't be the worst thing."

"Yeah, for you," Rick said.

Beni met his eyes evenly. "Did you think I was talking about anyone else?"

Rick scoffed. "I suppose I oughtta know by now you wouldn't be."

Beni might have snorted, and turned his attention to Evelyn. "I am not hiring you on my crew."

Vera's gaze jerked up to his in surprise, while Evelyn's eyes narrowed at him. "And why not?"

He let out a loud, whiny sigh. "Because you're a pain in the ass. And I already have Meela. She's enough of a pain in my ass."

"The happy couple," Jonathan said with a chuckle, giving Vera a nudge. She gave him a little smile.

Evelyn huffed a sigh. "But she could - "

"What?" Beni interrupted irritably. "Resurrect Imhotep? But only one of you has a poor record for doing that."

She glanced down, her mouth twitching in annoyance. Rick stared at Beni steadily.

"Look, what would it take?"

Beni scoffed. "A lot more than a woman I can already have any time I want to."

Vera's eyes dropped to the floor in horror as Rick demanded what he meant by that. The story fell out, piece by piece, and she couldn't bear to look up.

"Jonathan! How could you ask such a thing?"

"Well, I didn't mean she had to come and sleep with him - "

"Can we please stop talking about this?" Vera found herself pleading. She glanced up, and Evelyn was staring down at her hands sheepishly. "I'm a big girl, nobody made me do anything."

The room fell uncomfortably silent, and she found herself wishing desperately that she hadn't taken the day off of work today. After a moment, Beni let out a grumbling sigh.

"Get out of my room, I'm not talking about this again."

Evelyn stood up, glaring down at him pertly. "You know, we know how to get to Hamunaptra on our own. We don't need your permission."

Beni scowled right back at her. "Then would you go out there and leave me alone?"

She sniffed, and strode for the door. Rick lumbered a sigh, and Vera felt Jonathan pat her on the knee. She glanced at him, and he mouthed "sorry" to her before standing up and following behind O'Connell and his sister. Beni crossed the room after them and attempted to slam the door, but it bounced back, the hinges testy from Rick kicking the door in earlier. He let out an irritable sigh and breathed a few curses before turning around to look at her. Vera raised her eyebrows.

"Just when I think it couldn't possibly be any worse, you go and humiliate me again," she said.

Beni snorted, his voice taking on a mocking singsong. "You're a big girl. Nobody made you do anything."


	11. The Awful Daring of a Moment's Surrender

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**The Awful Daring of a Moment's Surrender**

Vera's stomach dropped.

Everything inside her became very uneasy, and she couldn't seem to force herself to look down, to give the impression that perhaps he _hadn't_ seen her. But he had. She watched his brow furrow in surprise, and her arms and legs tightened. She stared into his dark eyes as he strode down the hall, an entire entourage of men following behind him in their black robes. She swallowed hard, and attempted to stand up a little taller.

"Vera?"

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

"What are you doing here?"

What, indeed. If only she had left a moment sooner. If only she'd pulled her stockings up a little faster. If only she hadn't spent that silly minute looking at herself in Meela's robe.

"Hello, Ardeth," she said.

He glanced at the door they now stood in front of, and she reluctantly followed his gaze.

"Were you just here?"

Vera's eyes flitted behind him, to the handful of men situated behind him, staring persistently at the floor or the walls. Anywhere but at her. She remembered suddenly that her hair was uncovered, and they were probably making a desperate attempt to pay their chief respect by not looking at her.

She glanced at the door again, and heaved a sigh. "I...was..."

Ardeth's eyebrows jerked a little. He scanned her face for a moment that felt much too long, and she was sure she saw (though perhaps her paranoia merely imagined) disappointment in the dark depths of his eyes. She could never know, anymore. There was a time where she always seemed to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling - sometimes before he did. But that time was over. He felt like less than a stranger to her now.

He gave her a slight nod, finally, and stepped gently past her, raising a hand to knock on the door.

"I assume you're finished here?"

Vera felt relieved and apprehensive all at once, but she welcomed the opportunity to escape his presence. She nodded and stepped out of the way of his men. She might have said goodbye as she started quickly down the hallway towards the elevator. Her heart pounded as she pushed the call light and waited. Her foot started tapping. She took one, quick glance down the hall, and saw that the men had disappeared into Beni's room. She bit down on her lip and glanced back at the elevator. She watched the doors open and met the smile of the elevator operator.

"Going down, miss?"

She eyed his door again, and her stomach tightened. Without a word, she turned and strode back down the hall, slowing a few doors before his to walk more quietly on the balls of her feet. She held her breath and leaned against the wall next to his door, near the seam with the hinges. She could hear voices, a little muffled, through the crack.

"Mr. Gabor, I have been told you speak excellent Arabic."

She heard Beni scoff. "I do alright."

"But more importantly," Ardeth said, "we both speak English very well - a skill none of these men have."

"So?"

"So before I get to business, let's have a word."

Vera let out a slow, shaking sigh and leaned a little closer.

Beni sounded irritated. "Alright."

She heard Ardeth sigh loudly. "Now, I don't know what business you have with the woman who just left your room, but that is my wife."

"Heh. When a woman comes to me late at night wearing nothing but her coat, I don't really care who her husband is."

Vera's hands tightened into fists. She heard noise; deliberate footsteps, something like a struggle, and then a heavy thud. Beni let out pained noise, and then suddenly he was wheezing.

"Listen here, Mr. Gabor, this might shock you, but I don't care at all about your money. That is my wife, and I will run you through with my sword just the same as any other man."

"Don't!" Beni's voice was quite shrill. "I was only joking! It was a joke! I have no idea who that woman even is!"

"You might reconsider what you find funny," Ardeth told him tersely.

"Oh,_ come on,"_ Beni whined. "I have a fiancee! Just look in the papers! What would I want with your wife?"

Silence. Vera wished desperately she could see what was going on. She heard a muffled noise, and footsteps, and the creaks of chairs as first one, then another man took his seat. A relieved sigh whispered past her lips.

"You know, it is not like I have any control over who comes to see me," Beni said, his tone pointed. "I certainly didn't invite you."

Ardeth sighed. The next time he spoke, it was in Arabic. _"We will keep this brief. I believe you know why we're here."_

_"If I had to guess, it has to do with Hamunaptra."_

_"Yes."_

Beni let out an exasperated sigh; Vera could almost picture the way he was rubbing his face as he muttered a few Hungarian curses.

_"I see no reason to speak in riddles, Mr. Gabor. You witnessed the destruction caused by the Creature very closely. We have reason to believe the Creature will certainly be resurrected again."_

_"Oh?" _Beni said, his tone a little mocking. _"And why is that?"_

Ardeth's tone matched his with even severity. _"Because of your fiancee. Miss Nais has some...odd affiliates."_

_"What about them?"_

Ardeth's sigh grumbled a little in his throat. _"Are you aware that she has replaced almost the entire digging team you hired with a tribe of warriors? A tribe whose sole purpose is to resurrect the Creature?"_

Beni let out a little sigh, and sucked in a breath. It occurred to Vera that he was probably smoking. _"So? What do you want me to do about it?"_

_"Doesn't any of this concern you?"_

_"Meela's job is to cart all of the gold to Cairo so I can sell it. I don't care what the woman does with the rest of her time."_

Vera heard a noise, and footsteps. When Ardeth spoke again, his voice was louder. She knew she needed to leave now, before he discovered she'd been listening in on their conversation.

_"Mr. Gabor, this is a warning. If you do nothing about the excavation at Hamunaptra, we will be forced to step in."_

_"Oh?" _Beni snickered. _"Like you stepped in a few weeks ago? That's intimidating."_

Ardeth took a few steps; Vera was sure he was nearer to Beni now. _"This is a serious matter. If you do not take action, then my men certainly will. And I cannot gaurantee the safety of your fiancee."_

He took a few steps, and Vera heard him twist the doorknob. She heard him stop, and say:

_"Or your gold."_

Vera started briskly down the hall, though she wasn't terribly hopeful of escaping Ardeth's notice again. She heard the footsteps behind her, but pretended not to notice until a dark, tattooed hand caught her arm. She whirled around to meet her husband's dark, curious gaze.

"Still here?"

She straightened a little and raised her chin airily. "I was on my way out."

He smiled faintly, but he didn't seem particularly amused. "You were listening."

Vera shrugged stiffly. "I suppose I was..."

Ardeth glanced back at his men, and then pulled her a little further down the hallway.

"I have not forgotten what you said to me the other night."

Vera sighed. "I wouldn't have guessed you had."

Ardeth glanced down the hallway, and she could see his face tighten uncomfortably. When he looked back at her, his eyes were a furious sort of desperate.

"Please tell me that's not the man."

Vera pulled away from his grasp and crossed her arms over her chest. "If he is, would you really kill him over it?"

"If I did, I would be doing more than one person a favor..." Ardeth's throat jerked, and he took a little step back, looking her over. "_Is_ he the man?"

She shook her head, glancing at the floor. "What difference does it make? If it's not him, then it's somebody else. And you won't like it anymore if it's a good man than if it's him."

Ardeth's jaw tightened, and she could feel his steady gaze on her face. "It_ is_ him."

Vera's eyes jerked up, but there was no room for denial. She looked into his gaze, and he knew. "What difference does it make?" she muttered.

A strange, low growl echoed in his throat, and when he spoke again his voice was raised. "Frankly, Vera, I don't know how you could deign to let such a man look at you, much less put his hands - "

Vera's hands curled into fists. She took a step forward and stood toe-to-toe with him. "Oh, you're_ right._ It would have been_ so_ much easier on everyone if he was a handsome man."

"Allah!" he shouted. "Will I ever pay my debts in your eyes? I have regretted marrying Fatima every minute of every day! I am miserable with her! Does that satisfy you?"

She took a step back, her eyes dropping to the floor. She wanted desperately to say something - to have words quick and ready. She felt a twinge in her heart at his words, at the thought of him lonely in the desert with Fatima. But she quickly grew angry with herself for pitying him. He wasn't alone. He had his children and his mother, and Fatima was probably pregnant yet again. He wasn't so miserable that he'd stopped sleeping with her; she could be sure of that, at least.

She looked up at him as calmly as she could. "This debt can't be paid."

Ardeth let out a little sigh that almost sounded like a snort. He shook his head, and turned away from her. He said something to his men about leaving, and she watched them file past her, down the hall, to a hidden hallway that let onto stairs and a service entry, most likely. Vera took a deep breath. She glanced down the hall towards Beni's room before turning and walking to the elevator and pushing the call light.


	12. On Margate Sands

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**On Margate Sands**

"No, no! Thinner! I said thinner! And are you watching the walnuts? They'll burn! Are you watching?"

Vera took a deep breath and resisted the urge to glance up at the clock for the hundredth time that morning. Nico had taken his yearly trip to Greece; he had a dying mother and a handful of faithful vendors that he always visited. She supposed the trip had been coming up, but in all the excitement with Beni and Hamunaptra, she'd forgotten that her annual week and half under Phoebe's thumb would be upon her. Phoebe never went to Greece with Nico; she said she had enough to deal with - the children and all - though their children were all grown or nearly grown, and hardly required her watch. Phoebe wasn't really the type to care if someone needed her watch, anyway.

"Nico likes it like this," she said as calmly as she could manage, running her fingertips over the dough.

Phoebe snorted. "It must be like paper. I don't care what Nico says."

Vera didn't open her mouth again, but stepped quickly around the much larger woman, to the oven where her nuts were roasting. She heard Phoebe lumber over, and soon felt her just behind her, leering over her shoulder as she peeked into the oven.

"They're ready."

Vera started to tell her that they needed to go a little longer, but didn't bother. The day would go much better if she didn't argue and let Phoebe treat her like an idiot. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her hands under her apron and pulled out the hot pan. She set it down on the stove top and maneuvered away, letting Phoebe inspect them.

"Ehhh," she said. Vera took a breath of patience and turned around, watching Phoebe pick up a piece of crushed walnut between her fingers and pop it in her mouth. She frowned as she chewed it. "They need a little longer."

With a sigh, Vera crossed back over to the oven and replaced the pan.

Phoebe was a broad woman with calloused hands and elbows and a nose that was starting to take over her face. She was younger than Nico, but looked older, her mouth set with lines and her hair already mostly gray. Nico said her hard life had only been made harder by her disposition. Once he showed her a picture of Phoebe in her wedding dress, her young face set in a serious expression. She was all big, dark eyes and flowers twisted in her hair, a buxom figure perfected by a tight corset. She was so shockingly beautiful next to her current self, and the moment he'd shown her the picture, Vera had understood why he married her.

She thought of Ardeth, suddenly, telling her he was miserable with Fatima. Would people wonder the same thing about him someday, when Fatima's beauty aged from her cold, proud disposition? Would someone take out a photograph and say, "Ah, but she was so beautiful. Do you see now? Do you understand? All men make such mistakes."

"Vera! Vera, are you listening to me? I said the nuts are ready. They're ready now."

When she took a breath, she could smell how roasted the walnuts were, just on the brink of burning. She threw open the oven door and pulled out the pan. Within the moment Phoebe was pushing her out of the way and picking at the nuts, commenting on how they'd gone too long - how they were ruined now! If only she'd been listening instead of daydreaming, the lazy cow. If only she'd been -

The front door opened, and Vera couldn't help smiling in relief. She turned quickly away from the oven and crossed over to the bakery display. She was surprised to meet Jonathan's eyes for the second time in the past few days. He gave her a nervous smile as he approached the display case.

"Good morning," she said.

Jonathan shrugged. "Good afternoon." He motioned at the clock on the wall, and Vera's heart lept when she caught sight of the time. Five after noon._ Finally_.

"Can I get you some sourota?"

He shook his head. "I was hoping to catch you on your way out."

Vera looked at him curious, but didn't want to inquire any further just now. She glanced at Phoebe. "It's after twelve now. I'm leaving."

Phoebe muttered something about her being a lazy cow and told her that was all very well, but she had better be back all the earlier the next morning. Vera didn't answer her as she rushed to the coatrack and grabbed her hat. She nearly pulled Jonathan through the bakery and out into the street. She took a breath of the hot, dusty air and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank God that's over," she said.

Jonathan's brow furrowed, glancing back towards the bakery. "What's happened to Nico?"

Vera sighed. "He's in Greece. That's his wife Phoebe. She's horrible."

He nodded, offering her his arm and escorting her down the sidewalk. "Yes, I got that impression."

She adjusted her hat on her head and glanced up at him. "So? What have you come to see me about?"

Jonathan smiled sheepishly, his eyes slipping to his feet as they walked. "I, uh, I wanted to apologize...for the other day at the hotel. I seem to have given a very bad impression, and I feel like a complete cad."

Vera gave his arm a little squeeze. "You're not a cad."

"I really _didn't_ mean for you to go and spend the night with him."

She glanced down for a moment. "I told you. I'm a big girl."

Jonathan sighed, giving her a little nod. "Yes, I know that. I just...I only hope you didn't feel any pressure from me."

Vera shrugged. "It was really simple, actually. I told him what we wanted, and he told me what he wanted. It doesn't have anything to do with you."

He shook his head. "Still, I..."

She glanced up, and they stopped for a moment, looking each other in the eye.

"Oh, I don't know, Vera."

He sighed again, and gave her hand a little pat before they started walking again. He stared straight ahead and told her:

"I suppose I just don't know what a nice person like you is doing with the likes of him."

Vera pressed her lips together, her stomach starting to twist with nervousness. "It's very complicated."

Jonathan shrugged nonchalantly, glancing at her before returning his stare to the sidewalk. "Complicated. You know, I had a professor who said that's a word people only use when a situation is so disappointly simple that a person's too embarrassed to explain."

She stopped now, jerking him to a halt. He turned to look at her, and they were staring into each other's eyes again. Vera could feel her heart beating faster as frustration filled her head.

"Maybe it_ is_ simple, and maybe I said it was complicated to keep it private."

Jonathan glanced down at his hands. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Vera. Here I've come to apologize, and I've only managed to upset you. Forgive me. I didn't mean to pry."

But Vera held him back when he started walking again. He looked at her with a confused frown, and she pulled him out of the main walkway, so that they stood against the wall of a building.

She ran her tongue over her lips and said, "I can't have children."

Jonathan's expression became even more confused, but he nodded politely. "Oh. I'm, uh, I'm terribly sorry about that."

Vera glanced at the street a moment before looking back to him. "That's what I'm doing with him. I can't have children, and I don't feel the least bit bad about it if I'm with him. I'm married, you see, and I spent so much time disappointed, because my husband is a good man and he deserves to be a father. But I can't do it for him. Beni's selfish and mean and I've never once wished I could have children for him. I'm actually grateful I can't, when I'm with him."

Jonathan took a little step back, his expression still confused, though his eyes a little pitying now. He was quiet for a while as he clearly struggled to find what to say, and Vera felt both embarrassed and relieved at the same time.

"I'm terribly sorry you can't have children," he said slowly. "But you know, there are good men who wouldn't mind that at all. Not everybody wants children."

Vera sighed. "Of course they do. Sooner or later."

Jonathan shook his head, but didn't argue with her. He offered her his arm again, and he walked her the rest of the way to her apartment building. He apologized again about the morning at the hotel, and then told her:

"We're going out to Hamunaptra next week. Well, O'Connell and I, anyway. Evy's put up quite the valiant fight, but we can't be too careful. Nigel says there's only Meela out there as women go."

Vera nodded slowly, and wished him luck. He apologized again before telling her goodbye, and she slipped into her building and up the stairs before he could hint about her inviting him in. She could tell by the way he kept glancing at the door and idling, shifting his weight, that he would have liked to have stayed with her longer.

She pushed him out of her mind as she reached her floor, though her coutenance dropped when she saw the woman waiting outside her door. She caught sight of Vera and sent her a scowl, glancing over her shoulder to mutter something in a strange language before pulling a little boy away from the wall and making him stand next to her.

"Hello?" Vera said cautiously, a little afraid to get much closer.

The woman came towards her, dragging the boy along behind her. She stopped just in front of Vera and motioned at the boy.

He was a skinny little thing, perhaps five years old - though maybe older and small for his age. His dark hair was trimmed close to his scalp, and his clothes were clean even though they were threadbare. He looked back at Vera with wide, desperate blue eyes. She gasped a little. From his nose to the set of his eyebrows, to the position of his ears...everything about the boy was unmistakably familiar.

"He's son," the woman pronounced firmly, her hands tight on his skinny shoulders.

Vera nodded. She didn't have to tell her that; it was obvious in all of his features.

"Imre Gabor."

Imre glanced up at his mother curiously, and said something to her that sounded like a question. She said something tersely before turning her attention back to Vera. She pointed an accusatory finger at her.

"Whore," she said, before rattling off something long and angry in what seemed to be Hungarian. Vera nodded because she wasn't sure what else to do, glancing behind her to see if there was a tactful way to slip past her and into her apartment.

"Listen," Vera said slowly. "I don't know why you're here, or how you got here, but I'd like to go home now."

But the woman was still shouting at her. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to slip past the other woman - but she was right on her heels as she hurried to her door.

"I don't understand you," Vera told her loudly, searching for her keys. She quickly jammed it in the lock. "I'm sorry - "

"He!" the woman said, pointing at the door. "Beni!"

Vera ran her tongue over her lips. Everything was beginning to make sense now. She met the woman's gray eyes and pointed at the door. "Is he in there? Beni?"

The woman nodded, shaking her finger at the door. "Beni."

Vera sighed. Of course. Where else would he run to?

She held up a finger, and unlocked the door. She slipped inside and was holding open the door for the woman, but it was quickly pulled shut by someone inside. She heard the door lock, and then the woman was yelling, pounding on her door and shouting "whore" in the midst of her foreign rant. Vera took a breath and crossed the room to her gin bottle (already out in the open on the table, and half-empty, too) before meeting Beni's eyes with a hard glare.

"Care to explain this?"


	13. The Pleasant Whining

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**The Pleasant Whining**

"What do you want me to say, Vera?"

She breathed an irritated sigh, her hand tightening on her spatula. His nasally tone was grating on her nerves - when she could hear it over the hissing of the eggs and the muffled screetching of the woman still yelling at her door.

"Why did you lead her here? Why on earth would you do that?" she said, whirling around to look at him. Her spatula was raised like a weapon. He gave her a desperate, pleading look.

"Where else could I go? She would follow me anywhere!" he leaned back in the kitchen chair and cast a disgruntled look at the door just after the woman shouted something particularly venomous. "And I did not even know if it was safe here. I thought your goddamn husband would be waiting around to stab me."

Vera glanced up at the ceiling and sucked in a little breath. The little boy whined something, and then he started to cry. She glanced at the door, and then back to Beni.

"Get rid of them. I can't take this all night."

He looked at her with his big, helpless eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

She heaved a sigh and strode over to him. "For God's sake, give them some money."

His eyes narrowed. "No."

Vera tilted her head to the side, and waited for the woman to finish a long, foreign tirade. "He's obviously yours. Would it kill you to take care of your child?"

Beni crossed his arms over his chest. "He's_ not_ mine."

She raised her eyebrows incredulously. "Seriously? Have you looked at him?"

He muttered a few Hungarian curses and glared at the floor. "He's not my responsibility."

Vera was quickly losing what small shreds of patience she had left. "Of course he is. My God, Beni, you're half the reason he's in the world."

Beni let out a whiny sigh and looked up at her with chiding eyes. "Oh, stop it. You have such big ideas on the subject because you can't have any. But he isn't my problem. We agreed."

She started to say something, but she was caught by a curious phrase. She glanced at the door, and then back to Beni.

"What do you mean, you 'agreed'?"

He shrugged, pulling out his carton of cigarettes. "We had an - " He stopped mid-sentence and jerked his head up, shouting something at the door. The woman shouted back. Vera had had enough.

She reached down and pulled at Beni's jacket, searching through the pockets for his wallet. He tried to swat her hands away, but she found it and held it up out of reach. His eyes widened, and he lunged at her in a way that might have been comical under different circumstances. Vera tripped into the kitchen, holding the wallet behind her back, and took the skillet off of the stove, holding it out at arm's length. He glared at her.

"Give it to me!"

Vera shook her head. "Only if you give them a little money and get them away from my door. I can't take this shouting any longer."

He crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing the sizzling skillet a moment before sighing in defeat. "Fine."

Vera smiled a little and pulled a few big bills from the wallet before tossing it back to him. She carried the hot skillet with her to the door as she cautiously unlocked it and opened it a crack, holding out the bills.

The yelling stopped. The money was snatched out of her hand, and she was fairly certain she heard the woman call her a whore before shouting something at Beni and ushering her son down the hall. Vera sighed in relief, closing and locking the door. She turned and looked at Beni, brooding in his chair.

"Now," she said. "Was that so bad?"

He took a break from muttering curses to meet her eyes with a venomous glare. "I told you he's not my responsibility."

Vera's hand tightened on the skillet as she walked past him and back into the kitchen.

"And why is that?"

He took the gin bottle from the table by the neck and threw back a gulp. "We had an agreement. Ibolya paid me to make her pregnant."

Ibolya! That was her name. Vera's eyebrows rose in interest. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Her husband's a faggot who could not do it himself."

Something inside her tightened with offense. "He's a faggot because he can't have a child?"

Beni gave her a look. "He's a faggot because he fucks other men."

"Oh."

She put her skillet back on the stove and picked up her spatula again, flipping the eggs over a final time before putting them on a plate. She reached into the cupboard and took a loaf, starting to slice off a a piece. The room was silent for a moment. She heard the gin slosh in the bottle as he took another drink.

"He knew about it. He wanted her to do it, so people would not know he was a faggot. But everybody knew anyway. He was very rich and she said they'd take care of the baby."

Vera thought about the worn-out clothes the boy was wearing, and how tired and desperate Ibolya looked. She sighed, bringing him the plate of eggs and bread before returning to the kitchen. She thought she'd had some cheese...

"She doesn't look like she's been rich in a long time."

Beni scoffed, tearing off a piece of bread. "So what? That's her and her faggot husband's problem."

Vera sighed, pulling the cheese from the shelf and cutting off a few pieces on a plate. She cut herself a slice of bread and joined him at the table.

"You owe me," he said around a bite, "for that money you gave them."

She glanced up and met his eyes evenly. "Why don't we call it a wash after you decided not to hire Evelyn?"

Beni snickered a little. He glanced at her plate, and reached over to take a slice of cheese.

"That does not count. You like doing that. You do it for nothing."

Vera shot him a little glare, but didn't say anything. She turned her attention back to her food and pulled off another piece of bread.

"Your husband won't be coming around, will he?" Beni's voice was distinctly different; a little whinier and nervous. She glanced up and met his anxious eyes.

"I can't imagine he would be."

He breathed a little sigh of relief and shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. He always ate like he was starving. Really, he did everything like he was starving. He screwed her like he was starving, like he was desperate and dying for it and his life depended on it. And then he was done. Out the door, or so fast asleep that there was no talking to him.

She supposed she liked that.

"When's your fiancee coming back?"

He choked on his egg, staring up at her in surprise. "What?"

"Meela. Is she coming back soon?"

He groaned. "God, I hope not."

Vera cocked her head to the side curiously. "You don't seem to like her much."

"I don't."

"Then why are you marrying her?"

He shook his head, wheezing out a few laughs. "I am not marrying her."

Vera's brow furrowed. "You're engaged..."

"Of course," he said, "but I'm not going to marry her."

She eyed him. "So why even bother getting engaged?"

He shrugged, plucking up another piece of cheese from her plate. "I don't know. It's what rich men do. They buy new suits and get engaged to beautiful women and spend their time screwing somebody else."

"But why her?"

Beni looked at her suspiciously a moment before his face contorted with fake sympathy. "Oh, do you wish I had asked you?"

Vera scoffed. "I'm already married."

He snickered, dusting his hands of crumbs. "She is one of those virtuous types. She said she would not let me touch her unless we were engaged. Some waste of a time that was."

"Really?"

Beni nodded, his expression set with distaste. "God, she was boring. Did not make a noise at all. And then she made me promise she could be promoted beforehand, so the only people with any brains quit, and now she is out in the desert trying to bring back Imhotep, according to your husband."

Vera sighed. She didn't like being reminded of Ardeth.

"So why not ask me?" she said, changing the subject.

He sneered at her. "I thought you were married."

She shrugged. "So what?"

Beni let out a little scoff and stood up out of his chair. He walked over to her and offered his hand. "This is a stupid thing to talk about. Why don't you stand up and kiss me?"

Vera raised an eyebrow. "No."

He reached down and took her wrist. "Then stand up and I'll bend you over the table."

"You're disgusting."

He pulled her to her feet, mocking her with his whiny sing-song. "Nobody is watching, Vera. You don't have to pretend like you don't want it."

She stared at him, her mouth hanging open a little. He gave her a greasy smirk. She hated his awful little smile and his bony fingers around her arm, but everything about him sent a sickening thrill through her body. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and just as quickly wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him and he kissed her back harder, like he'd been deprived his whole life. He broke the embrace and turned her around, and she leaned her back against him for only a moment. She could feel his breath against her ear.

"I could never be engaged to you," he said. "You would move out of here, and I would have no goddamn place to go for peace and quiet."


	14. Winter Kept Us Warm

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**Winter Kept Us Warm**

"I can see why your husband misses you. You want it all the time."

Vera reached a hand up and wiped the sweat off of her brow. She wasn't ready to turn and look at him, but she slowly straightened from off of the table, rubbing the soreness in her back.

"Don't talk about him," she said.

Beni snorted, giving her backside a condescending pat as he trudged to a chair and dropped to his seat. She could feel him looking at her, but she didn't acknowledge his gaze.

"Actually, I was talking about you," he said, reaching in his pocket for something. He frowned, and then noticed his carton of cigarettes already on the table. He pulled one out and lit it up, taking a satisfied breath of smoke.

Vera sighed, finally glancing at him. "What about me?"

"You always want it," he said, blowing out a trail of smoke. "You never turn me down."

She stretched her arms over her head and looked away, pretending to find something interesting on the floor. Taking a little breath, she leaned against the table and yanked her skirt up a little, pulling her stockings off the rest of the way before smoothing it over her legs again.

"You're like a whore."

Her gaze jerked up, and when she met his eyes, they danced with a cruel smirk. She stared at him a moment, and he stared steadily back, his expression amused.

"I think I've been called that enough for one day," she said finally, crossing into the kitchen. She pretended to look for something in the cupboards, but mostly she just wanted to occupy herself. Her legs were still shaking a little. "Are you staying long?"

He sighed out another stream of smoke. "I don't know. No."

Vera nodded, turning from the cupboards to face him. "So what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "You know, now that you're rich. Are you going to move to America? Or back home?"

Beni gave her a look and scoffed. "I am not going back to Budapest."

She watched him in silence as he took another drag from his cigarette and breathed it out. "And who wants to go to America? Americans are the worst. And now, I hear you cannot even drink there."

Vera raised her eyebrows. "You're not going to stay here, are you?"

"Psh, in Egypt? Of course not."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Then where?"

He glared at her irritably and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. What do you care?"

Vera's eyes narrowed a little. "I _don't_ care. I was just asking."

Beni looked her over suspiciously and finished off his cigarette. "I am not going to take you with me."

She stared at him for a shocked moment. "I wouldn't go with you even if you asked me."

"Of course you would," he said. "You do anything I ask you to."

Vera strode across the room and stared down at him, so stupidly smug in his chair, snubbing out his cigarette on her table. She glared at him and snatched it from his hand.

"I have an ashtray," she said. "I keep it around for you. So the least you could do is use it."

He snickered, watching her take the used cigarette to the ashtray and drop it inside. "Why would I use your stupid ashtray when you'll take care of it for me?"

Vera sucked in a little breath and crossed the room to the door. "I think it's time for you to leave."

Beni crossed his arms and met her eyes impertinently. "I'm not ready to go."

"You're like a child, do you know that? You think everyone needs to cater to you."

He looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "If I am so terrible, go back to your husband. He's making a fool of himself over you, and you would be doing me a favor. I wouldn't have to worry about him killing me anymore."

Vera shook her head. "I don't want him."

"Oh?" he said, leaning back in his chair. "You want me, now? After months of telling me not to come back here, and the complaining - "

"I didn't say I wanted you," she said.

He scoffed, looking her over with measuring eyes. "Of course you do. I am rich now."

Vera tilted her head to the side. "I remember telling you to leave."

"I remember saying I'm not ready."

She glared down at him a moment, her heart pounding away in her chest. "What would I want with you? You won't even take care of your own child. And you're a cheapskate! My God, don't you know you have more money than anybody? And yet you keep coming back here and drinking my gin and eating my food like I owe you the charity."

He stood up, meeting her glare with a gaze equally irritated. "Why would anybody pay for something they can have for free?"

"You can't have it for free," she said. "Not anymore."

Beni scoffed loudly. "Of course I can. What are you going to do, send me a bill?"

Vera took a step back from him, pointing at the door. "Get out of my house!"

"This is not a house," he said, taking a step towards her. "It's a crummy little apartment."

She put her hands on her hips. "Well it's mine and I want you to get out."

His face twisted into an ugly little sneer. "Shut up and take your clothes off."

Vera's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'm not kidding around with you."

"Neither am I."

He reached for her, but she swatted away his hand and took a step back. "Leave me alone."

Beni's eyes narrowed briefly before his face broke into a grin. "You want it worse than you ever have."

"No. I don't. I want you to leave. You've done nothing but take advantage of me since the day we met, and I put up with it because you had nowhere else to go. But you have plenty of money now and I don't owe you anything."

She started to walk towards the door, and in her head she'd pictured herself throwing it open and ordering him out. But he took her by the arm and pulled her against him. She let out a little cry and tried to break free of him, but he took hold of her waist and held her hard against his chest. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away. Her knee jerked in an attempt to catch him between his legs, but she couldn't move it quite that far, and the motion set them both off balance. She hit the floor with a hard smack, Beni on top of her. She struggled to crawl out from under him, but he pulled himself up on his knees and pinned her arms to the floor, leaning over her with a grim smile on his face.

They stared at each other for a long moment, laboring for breath. A few of his necklaces dangled just above her face. Vera swallowed hard and tried to tell her body to stop trembling.

Suddenly, he leaned down and kissed her, and she let him. She didn't know why. She really _had_ wanted him to leave. He was selfish and cruel to her, and now much too smug to bear. But he kissed her and shifted his weight on top of her, and she found herself wanting him, anyway. She liked the way he touched her; she liked that she could let him have her, and forget (for however long) that she was useless at having children. She didn't want children with him. It was the only time she didn't. With those men that flirted with her at the bakery, with Nico...with any of the men she'd felt an attraction to since Ardeth, her heart filled with longing. What if she did fall in love? What if she did? Even one of these supposed men Jonathan had mentioned, these good men who still didn't want to be fathers...Even then. There was a distinct difference between not wanting and not being able. Sooner or later everyone wants a child, she was sure of it. Men just had the luxury of taking time to decide.

Beni had yanked up her skirt, and she felt his hand between them, starting to unbutton his trousers. She could feel him smirking against her lips, and she was ready to give in to him, again. But a strange noise ripped through the night, and they both jumped. Vera's eyes snapped open, and she met his in curious fear. He frowned and pulled himself up a little, trying to catch a glimpse out the window without having to get up off of the floor. The noise tore through the sky again.

He got up, but Vera stayed on the floor, too nervous to move. He looked out the window and muttered a long string of curses.

"What? What is it?"

He glanced down at her, his mouth open to say something, when he was interrupted by a frantic knock on the door.


	15. What the Thunder Said

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**What the Thunder Said**

Vera didn't even have a chance to pull herself off the floor before her door was kicked in. She let out a little cry and sat up, struggling to pull her skirt down over her legs as a familiar group of people stormed into her apartment. She heard Beni gasp a whiny breath and take a few steps back, and she quickly saw why: behind O'Connell and Evelyn and Jonathan, all crowded just inside the door, stood Ardeth.

Swallowing hard, Vera pulled herself haphazardly to her feet. She realized just a little too late that her blouse was open, and quickly reached a hand up to hold it closed.

"What's going on?" she asked.

O'Connell was glaring pointedly at Beni. "Why don't we ask our buddy, the discoverer of Hamunaptra."

Beni laughed nervously, his eyes darting around the room. "Strange weather we're having..."

"Yes," Jonathan scoffed, stepping a little further inside. "Fire and brimstone. It's almost...biblical, wouldn't you say?"

Ardeth pushed past them and stepped into the room. Vera saw his eyes harden a little as he glanced from her to Beni, and then back to her again.

"The Creature has been raised."

Beni met all the dark looks with helpless eyes. "Oh, come on. This is not my fault!"

Evelyn stepped pertly up to him. "Oh, it is too, you little rat! You've had every opportunity to prevent this - "

His brow furrowed, and he pointed an accusatory finger at her. "You told me the city was buried under the ground. How was I supposed to know they would dig up the books this quickly?"

"Well, it seems they have, good chap," Jonathan said.

Vera watched a fiery hailstone plummet through the sky. She turned away and looked at Evelyn. "Is he here? In the city?"

"We don't know," O'Connell said. "We were on our way to the hotel, to see if Meela had dropped by."

Beni groaned, reaching up to rub his face. "So what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to be sure my wife was unharmed," Ardeth said, his voice carrying through the room darkly. Beni gulped and pretended to gaze out the window nonchalantly.

Vera levelled her eyes at her husband. "I'm fine."

"We actually weren't looking for you at all," Rick said to Beni with a sarcastic smile. "The hotel was our next stop. Nice of you to save us the trip."

"Oh, my pleasure," Beni said with a whiny sigh.

Vera took a breath and turned her gaze to O'Connell. Anywhere but in Ardeth's eyes. "So now what?"

He shrugged his big shoulders, glancing at Evelyn and then Ardeth before saying. "We find Meela, I guess."

Beni didn't seem to notice the expectant stares for a moment, but when he did, his face fell and his voice became even whinier. "Oh, _come on_, I don't know where she is..."

"But she's bound to find you," Evelyn said.

Beni shook his head fervently. "Um, actually - "

Rick crossed the room and took him by the lapels of his suit jacket. "Yeah, you're not talking your way out of this one. She raised him from the dead, and you're the only one with any connection to her."

"If she's even alive," Beni said quickly. Vera thought she detected a bit of hopefulness in his tone. "How do you know Imhotep did not sacrifice her already?"

"Because she is Anck-su-namun, reborn," Ardeth said. Vera turned and looked at him now, confused. "We captured one of her men at Hamunaptra."

She shook her head. "How can that be?"

He stared at her steadily. "Such things happen. You know this."

Vera glanced away, catching another glimpse of a burning hailstone. So many questions buzzed in her mind, but she wasn't even sure how to ask them. She felt Rick push past her gently, hands on his shoulder holsters. He glanced back at them with a commanding gaze before starting out the door.

"Let's go."

Evelyn and Ardeth strode quickly after him, with Jonathan on their heels. Beni met Vera's eyes and smiled nervously.

"After you."

She gave him a suspicious look, but walked out the door. A moment later, she heard footsteps pounding behind her, heading in the opposite direction down the hall. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Beni running off. Rick breathed a sigh, shouldered through the group, and chased after him, catching him by the collar and dragging him back to the group.

"We're going this way," he said pointedly. Beni sputtered something as he was dragged along behind O'Connell. He let out a whiny groan when he was entrusted to Ardeth.

Vera winced a little, and sped up so she wouldn't have to walk behind them. She caught up to Jonathan and gave him an anxious smile.

"So where are we going?"

He shrugged. "I suppose we follow the plagues. Last time, they seemed to accompany him wherever he went. With the hailstones, he can't be too far off."

"Oh."

Vera heard strained whispers behind her as they headed down the stairs and out of her apartment building. A yellow car was parked just a little ways off.

"Isn't she a beauty?" Jonathan was saying. "And I just got her bumper replaced. Now I suppose it'll be crushed again by a new mob of diseased underlings."

Vera wasn't sure what he was talking about, but she ignored it for the time being. She slowed just a little, focusing on the hushed voices behind her.

"Were you enjoying your time with my wife?"

Beni wheezed out a few nervous laughs, and Vera didn't have to glance back to know his eyes were flitting around him to every possible venue of escape.

"Oh, I assure you, it was very innocent! We were having a drink - of tea. I would_ never_ lay a finger on another man's wife. Especially yours!"

Ardeth let out a growling sigh, and Vera heard him mutter something to himself in Arabic just before Jonathan held open the car door for her. She gave him a strained smile and slipped in the backseat. Beni was shoved in after her, and Ardeth slid in after him. He glanced down at Beni's lap before turning to glare steadily forward.

"Your pants are unbuttoned, Mr. Gabor."


	16. Unreal City

_**Author's Note. **So here's a two-fer; since this chapter and the last one are both fairly short. The next one should (hopefully) be longer._

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the lines in this chapter are, of course, from the poem, lines 331-332, and lines 335-338, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

_Here is no water but only rock  
Rock and no water and the sandy road...  
If there were water we should stop to drink  
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think  
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand  
If there were only water amongst the rock_

**Unreal City**

They sped on, mostly in silence, towards the thunder and hailstones in the distance. The sky was very black and roared after every snap of a lightning bolt. Vera leaned her head against the seat and tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Are you all hearing that?"

Vera shook her head but didn't answer Jonathan's question.

"It's a strange sort of rumbling..."

"I think it's the thunder, Jonathan."

"Now, Evy, I don't think it is - "

With a sigh, she turned her attention back to her own thoughts. Imhotep had been raised only a few weeks ago. She hadn't been told much about it, except for meager answers from Beni and what Jonathan had told her at the restaurant. She also hadn't asked many questions. She found herself angry with Ardeth; if the Creature had been resurrected, why hadn't he checked on her then? Why had he insisted on seeing to her well-being _this_ time? This time, when he knew their marriage was held together by only a thread?

She glanced over at him, still staring blankly ahead with an unmoved (but sour) expression. He didn't look at her or at Beni, who was taking up as little room as he possibly could, and practically crossing his legs like a woman in an attempt not to touch her. She found herself wanting to lean over and kiss him, to wrap her arms around his neck or even slip her hand down his trousers, just so Ardeth could see how unbearably furious she was with him. She wanted to demand that he divorce her; to demand that he say the words and let her go. Would he, if he saw her with Beni?

Vera bit her lip, glancing up at the front seat. She supposed Rick, Evelyn and Jonathan had already found her naked in bed with the man, so even if they happened to look back, she'd hardly shock them. She took a little breath and leaned closer to Beni, kissing the side of his face and his neck. He swatted at her face before finally taking her by the shoulders and shoving her away.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" he hissed, glancing nervously at her husband.

Ardeth glanced at them sidelong, and Vera met his eyes darkly.

"Nobody's going to kill you," she said, her gaze unwavering. Ardeth breathed a sigh and turned his attention back to the road.

Vera looked at Beni, and leaned over to kiss him again.

"Stop it," he said, shoving her roughly away. Vera shot him a little glare and crossed her arms over her chest. He glared right back at her, but she wasn't in the mood to play in a scowling match. She opened her mouth to tell him to relax when the car jerked to a halt. She turned and looked at the road ahead in confusion.

"Bloody hell," Jonathan whispered, looking over his shoulder to meet their eyes in wonder. "Are you all seeing this?"

Vera sat up a little in her seat, peering over the shoulders of the people in front of her. Her jaw dropped.

"My God," she said, "Are those...frogs?"

Spread out like a green, slimy carpet were more frogs than she had ever seen in her life. They chirped throaty "ribbits" in a deafening unison, and suddenly the source of the rumbling Jonathan had heard was made clear.

Ardeth stood up in the back of the car and stared ahead. "They reach all the way to that building up ahead."

Rick stood up, too, and glanced back at him. "That's Cleopatra's Temple."

Beni let out a loud, whiny groan, and O'Connell shot him a look. "Guess we know where they are."

Jonathan winced a little, his hands flexing on the steering wheel. "Shall I just...run over them, then?"

"Uh, yeah, Jonathan," Rick said, a sarcastic smile on his face. Jonathan made a face, and pressed down on the gas pedal. The frogs splattered and smashed against the wheels with sickening _squishes_, and Vera tried not to let the sound make her nauseous. She stared steadily down at her feet and held her breath, the musky, wet smell of frog growing more unbearable the further they went.

Minutes passed with only the sound of Jonathan's disgust occasionally rising above the roar of the frogs. He groaned about having to scrub frog blood off of his beloved car until Rick told him to shut up. Vera covered her mouth with her hand and tried to focus on her shoes, or the floor of the car, or anything to distract her from the awful stench and sound. She felt, or imagined she felt, Ardeth watching her, but when the car finally slowed to a stop and she glanced up, he was still staring steadily ahead.

Rick hopped out of the car and helped Evelyn down. She let out a little cry and swatted at the frogs hopping at her legs. He took her by the hand and pulled her along, into the hotel. Jonathan looked disgruntled as he attempted to pick his way after them. Vera took a deep breath, and opened her car door. She told herself not to look down and hurried along behind. She glanced over her shoulder, once, to see Ardeth dragging Beni after him.

The lobby of the hotel, gratefully, was free of frogs. Vera thought everything looked normal - until O'Connell grimly pointed out the display of Actium that lined the entire wall. The enormous pool, tiled in blue and green and gold, had turned entirely red. Jonathan glanced at Vera and gulped.

"Is anyone else getting a distinct feeling of deja vous?"

Rick kind of scoffed and nodded, stopping the group in front of the elevators. He pressed the button and turned to look at all of them.

"What's everybody got on them?"

Beni sneered. "Oh, right, because guns are such a great advantage with Imhotep."

The elevator doors opened, and Rick gave Beni a smack upside his head before stepping on and telling the operator the floor number of Beni's room. They stood in awkward silence as they were carried up and up. Vera held her breath until they landed on the correct floor, and the door opened to a perfectly benign-looking hallway.

"You know we have nothing," Beni was whining as they started down the hallway. Vera heard O'Connell let out an irritated sigh. "All your stupid guns won't kill Imhotep, and we don't have the gold book. He can kill all of us, no problem. He does not have a weak spot."

Rick stopped and turned around, looking at him with a dark, commanding gaze. "He does have a weak spot, and you're engaged to her. And unlike him, she's not an all-powerful mummy. So quit being a coward and listen up. I have a plan."

"Oh," Beni muttered under his breath, "I feel so reassured."


	17. Rats' Alley

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**Rats' Alley**

Vera held her breath as Beni searched his pockets for his keys. She was fairly certain he was stalling, and if Rick didn't have his hard gaze trained on him and his hand on his holster, Beni probably would've tried to run for it by now. She looked down and tried to focus on being calm, or at least appearing that way. Rick's words were still echoing in her head. _He's gonna do whatever he thinks will keep him alive, so brace yourself. He's not going to do one damn thing I told him to. But that doesn't matter. We just need to know what we're up against. If he wants to sell his soul to Imhotep, let him. _

She glanced at Beni again, in his new suit and shiny shoes. He looked just as desperate as he always had in that dirty, dark ensemble he'd dug up some place or another. Desperate and weak, like the night he showed up at her apartment with the treasure. Her heart started to beat a little faster. God, was she really supposed to do this, with him? When Rick had said it needed to be her, Ardeth had protested loudly. But Imhotep would recognize all of them, espcially Evelyn, who was the only other candidate to fit Rick's plan.

It needed to be her, to make a believably nonchalant entrance and to keep Beni in check. Really, how was she supposed to do that? Rick had told her privately that she couldn't. If he told Imhotep that they were waiting just outside the door, and pledged allegiance, there was nothing she could do about it. But what Beni did wasn't really the point.

He found the key at last and jammed it into the lock. He looked at her, and she looked back at him.

"Ready?" he asked grimly.

She nodded, and put on her most convincing smile.

Beni threw open the door and took her by the hand. She was shocked by how easily he stepped into the room, by the way he started saying some nonsense in the middle of a sentence as if they'd been chatting all down the hallway. She was stiff from nerves and fright, but he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into a kiss, and was leaning in to make a dirty suggestion when she heard footsteps.

"Oh, my dear," Beni sounded genuinely surprised to see his fiancee, standing just outside the bathroom in her robe. "I did not expect you..."

Meela crossed her arms over her chest and levelled her eyes at him coolly. She was even more beautiful than the picture of her in the papers. Vera felt a chill when her black eyes looked her over. Meela's proud mouth twisted, just barely, with a quiet scoff before she looked back at Beni.

"Apparently not," she said, her cultured voicel like running water. She glided into the room. "And yet I was expecting you."

Beni laughed nervously, thrusting his hands into his pockets. "So. How was the desert?"

Her lips almost tipped in a smile, and she turned to look at Vera. "Who is your friend?"

He stiffened a little. "Her name is Vera. How was the desert?"

"Hot," she said, perching herself on the edge of the bed. She slipped a hand into her pocket and watched him with something like amusement.

Beni let out an irritable sigh, crossing over to where she sat. "Did you bring me anything back?"

She did smile now, reaching a hand up and taking hold of his suit coat. She pulled him down to her eye level. "I have brought myself. Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course, of course - "

He didn't even have the chance to finish his sentence; Meela slipped her hand out of the pocket of her robe and put a knife to his throat.

"Really?" she said, her voice much harder now. "I am not happy to see you at all."

She rose to her feet and Beni backed up, casting helpless glances at Vera. She wasn't sure what to do.

"I ought to slit your throat right now."

"Oh, my darling," he sputtered, his voice going up an octave, raising his hands in defeat. "Why would you want to do such a thing?"

Meela smiled wickedly. "Oh, my darling," she said, mockery glinting in her eye. "Perhaps because you have served your purpose."

Beni gasped back a whiny breath. "Oh, no, that is not true at all - "

"Isn't it?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "I got what I wanted out of our agreement. And I believe you got what you wanted the night before I left."

He reached a hand up and took hold of hers around the knife. She flicked her wrist and he let go, taking a few more steps back that she matched evenly. After another step he had himself against a wall. Meela's eyes flitted across the room at Vera for a brief moment before returning to Beni. She didn't look away from him as she told her in a smooth voice:

"Vera, my _darling_ fiance will not be requiring your company any longer this evening."

She took a deep breath, trying to think...she needed to think...

"You're not going to kill him, are you?" she asked, her voice shaking.

Meela smiled a little. "If you would like to stick around, you can join him."

"But he's the father of my child!" Vera blurted. She wasn't even sure where the words had come from, but Meela lowered the knife and breathed an exasperated sigh. Beni let out a loud, whiny groan.

"You told me you couldn't get pregnant!"

She swallowed hard and tried to shoot him a look without Meela noticing. Fortunately, the other woman was too busy rolling her eyes in disgust.

"Gods, another one?" she said, glaring at Beni. "That's two now. Which is a shock, frankly, after what I've seen of you."

Beni gave her a nervous smile. "Two? You must be mistaken..."

She shook her head, pointing her knife at him with an accusatory air. "That...little foreign woman with the boy. He's every bit as ugly as you."

"Hey!"

Meela scoffed, taking hold of Beni's lapel and shoving him away from the wall. She sheathed her knife and slipped it back into the pocket of her robe and gave him the edge of her haughty stare.

"You are not going to kill me?" he asked.

Her eyes twinkled with a cruel smile, but her lips were unmoved. "A man with your family responsibilities? How could I? Obviously, you need to stay alive for their financial well-being."

Beni grimaced, heaving a sigh before glancing at Vera distastefully. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she couldn't give away her lie. She turned her attention to Meela.

"Did you know there are frogs all over the street?"

Meela pressed her lips together. "How odd."

Vera's mind buzzed with confusion. She glanced at Beni, but he was too busy muttering Hungarian curses, likely about all of these children he'd allegedly fathered. She couldn't rely on him to help, but she supposed she'd known that coming in. She gave Meela a pleasant smile and asked if she could use the bathroom.

She slipped in and closed the door, staring at herself in the mirror. She thought she looked like a wreck - every bit as nervous as she was feeling. What was she supposed to do now? She didn't have any of the information O'Connell was wanting. She didn't know if Imhotep was fully regenerated. She didn't know if they had both books, or where they were. All she had was Meela, with her proud face and short answers.

All she had was Meela.

Vera smiled triumphantly, hurrying out of the bathroom. Meela was gazing out the window, bored, while Beni leaned agains the wall frowning. Everything inside her raced as she took another step forward, and reached into her waistband for the pistol O'Connell had given her.

She didn't know how to use it, but she had it for appearance's sake. And that's all she needed. She pulled it out and aimed it at Meela.

"O'Connell!" she shouted. "We've got her!"

Meela turned to look at her in confusion, her face for the first time breaking from its stoic iciness. Her eyes widened, and she must have known Vera was a novice with the gun, because she stalked towards her, reaching for her knife again. She didn't make it far before the door burst open and the group rushed in, weapons raised. Meela froze, turning her glare to the row of barrells pointed in her direction.

She shot Beni a dark look. "You pathetic little man. You were in on this."

He gave her a slimy grin and shrugged. "I told you to burn the mummies."

Meela's eyes narrowed as Ardeth walked over and restrained her arms behind her back, forcing the knife out of her hand easily. Rick crossed the room to the bed and quietly tore a length of fabric from the sheets.

"Do you think Imhotep will remember your loyalty now?" she demanded, her voice much shriller than before. "You're as good as dead! You all are! You are nothing against him!"

Rick gave her a lopsided smile as he walked over and gagged her with a shred of fabric. "We'll take our chances."


	18. The Burial of the Dead

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**The Burial of the Dead**

Meela looked as smug and regal as she could with a gag in her mouth and her hands secured behind her back by one of the cords cut from Ardeth's clothes. She sat on the edge of the bed and glared at them in silence as they scoured the room. Vera's heart was pounding hard in her ears; at any moment, Imhotep could return, and they would all be hopeless against him. But Evelyn and O'Connell were right; the most obvious place for the books and the key was in the room somewhere. There was no sense in leaving when the key to destroying Imhotep might be only a few inches away.

Nothing was turning up, though. Beni had even slashed open the mattress, which made Meela laugh around her gag. They checked the closets and under the bed and behind the curtains; Jonathan told her that the books were enormous and ungodly heavy, so they ought to be easy to find. The key, on the other hand, could be anywhere.

Vera was searching the bathroom for what felt like the eighth time in the last two minutes. Jonathan was on his hands and knees on the floor, and she was squinting at the seam between the mirror and the wall. She was starting to get a headache, and breathed an exasperated sigh.

"How do we even know that the books and key are what we need to be looking for?" she said, her voice irritable. Jonathan pulled himself up to his feet, his joints popping loudly.

"Don't be silly, dear. It's the only way to bring him back, and he's certainly back."

Vera froze, her face falling to a frown all of the sudden. "We don't know he's back."

Jonathan's eyes widened in confusion. "What do you mean? Between the hail and the frogs, I'm waiting for Moses to show up."

But Vera could only shake her head. Something wasn't making sense, and she could feel...so distantly, in the back of her mind, the memory of something important. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to focus on bringing that something, so long forgotten, back to the front of her mind. Something about a curse...a curse that protected the City of the Dead...what was it?

Breathing a defeated sigh, she left the bathroom and found Ardeth, pulling drawers out of the bedside table. She tapped him on the shoulder, and he seemed surprised to see her.

"What if she hasn't brought him back?"

Ardeth frowned, pausing in his search. He looked up at her curiously.

"What do you mean?"

Vera swallowed hard. "You know I never had much interest in these things, but wasn't there...on a pillar, wasn't there..."

Ardeth's eyes widened in realization. He nodded his head, and without another word, he strode over to Meela and pulled her gag out.

"What does the Book of the Dead say on the cover?"

Meela gave him an incredulous look, and kept her mouth shut. He took a breath, and pulled a knife from his scabbard. He pressed the blade against her throat.

"Tell us, woman, or you give me no choice."

She remained perfectly quiet, and in the silence the rest of the group stopped their search to watch the exchange. Ardeth pressed his blade a little into her neck, and she told him through clenched teeth. "I don't know."

Ardeth met her eyes evenly before turning to look around the room. He and O'Connell shared a look.

"Alright," Rick said slowly. "So where did the plagues come from?"

Ardeth watched Meela a moment before letting out a sigh. "Well, we cannot be sure, since I doubt she will confirm it, but if I had to guess...They found an inscription guarding the city. A curse to protect it from all who might dare to enter."

Rick frowned. "I don't get it. If it protects the city, why's it only working now?"

"Someone must enact the curse. It's called the Hom-Rah."

Evelyn gasped in sudden recognition. "But if they've enacted the Hom-Rah, then they're safeguarding the city."

"Against what?" Vera asked.

Their eyes fell on Meela, whose pretty face had broken into a dark smirk. "You fools," she said icily, leaning back as much as she could with a satisfied air.

Rick met her black eyes grimly. "Against us."

Evelyn's face became very serious. "They're going to resurrect him in the city."

"She was just a decoy," O'Connell said.

Evelyn steeled her spine. "We must go to Hamunaptra and stop the ritual."

Vera shook her head. "How could we ever get there in time?"

Evelyn started to protest, but Ardeth interrupted her. "She's right. The plagues will only get more intense the closer we get to the city. He will surely be resurrected by the time we reach it."

"If he hasn't been already," Rick added, his face grim.

"Still," Evelyn said, her voice getting strained with persistence, "we must have the Gold Book to destroy him."

Vera let out a sigh. She glanced over at Meela, sitting still as a statue on the edge of the bed. Her heart sank as she listened to Ardeth and Rick discuss the logistics of travelling to Hamunaptra with any immediacy. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to decide what she ought to do.

Of course, she didn't_ have_ to go out in the desert with them.

If there was one thing she'd learned from Beni, it was that a person wasn't actually obligated to do much in life. But she_ was_ a Med-Jai. She had never felt much connection to the tribe; her father, an American anthropologist, had whisked her and her mother out of the desert when she was still a baby. It wasn't until after her father's death, when she was nearly thirteen, that she returned with her mother to the tribe. She had been so miserable among those strange people with their strange customs and a lifestyle that felt dirty after spending years accustomed to running water and ice boxes. But then she met Ardeth, and none of that mattered. She wanted to be a part of them, even, since he loved them so. She supposed that time was over.

She glanced over at Ardeth, the pain in her heart growing intensely at the thought of venturing out with him. She didn't want to. She didn't want to start caring for him again - it would only lead to even more pain. That same, old, breathtaking pain of their situation and her barren body.

With a resolved sigh, Vera started to take a step towards them, to tell them that she simply couldn't accompany them to Hamunaptra, but -

"I say!"

The voice made her jump. She whirled around to see Jonathan, who had apparently just joined them from the bathroom. He was frowning at the room in confusion.

"You've all made a mess of this room."

Evelyn turned and rolled her eyes at him. She opened her mouth, and words flooded in a quick, clipped stream as she started to explain their situation. But Jonathan wasn't paying any attention. He crossed the room to the wall next to the door, and crouched down.

"Nothing in the vent, either, eh?"

Vera took a few steps and frowned at the square hole at the base of the wall, the ornate vent grate tossed haphazardly on the floor. Evelyn let out an exasperated sigh and turned her attention back to Ardeth and Rick's conversation, but Vera heard something stranger. She turned in the direction of the little gasp, and met Meela's wild eyes. Vera's stomach started to twist.

Jonathan straightened to his full height and looked around the room curiously. "And where's Beni run off to?"


	19. A Game of Chess

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**A Game of Chess**

Meela was glaring steadily at the place where the grate had been, and Vera wasn't the only one who noticed.

"What'd you have hidden in there?" Rick asked. Her eyes jerked up to his, but her mouth was unmoved.

Jonathan let out a sigh. "Well, if Beni took it..."

Rick snapped his fingers, meeting Jonathan's eyes knowingly. "The gold book."

Vera shook her head. "But either of the books - and the key - would be valuable to us -"

"Yes," Evelyn scoffed, "but a book made out of solid gold would be much more valuable to him."

Rick turned his attention back to Meela. "Was it the gold book?" She glared steadily down, and he took a few steps closer, until she looked back up at him again. "It's already gone, you know."

She sighed darkly. "Yes."

O'Connell watched her for a moment, raising his eyebrows. "Yes, you konw it's gone, or yes it's - "

"Yes, it is the Book of Amun-Ra," she said, her voice cold and clipped.

Evelyn let out a long sigh. "Well now what do we do? He could've gone anywhere with it..."

Vera's throat tightened, and her eyes jerked up to Evelyn's urgently. "That's not true."

Jonathan looked at her curiously. "Where is it you think he's gone?"

She felt a little embarrassed saying it, but she shrugged. "My apartment."

"But why would he do that?" Jonathan asked. "It's much too obvious."

Vera took a breath, feeling Rick's blue gaze before she looked up at him. He beat her to the answer:

" 'Cause he has nowhere else to go."

Evelyn shook her head. "That isn't true - "

"It is true," Rick cut in. "But even if it wasn't, he'd go someplace he knows we could find him."

Jonathan frowned in confusion. "Why would he do that?"

"He knows we want the book," Vera said, a sick feeling in her stomach. "And he knows we'd do about anything to get it from him."

Jonathan groaned, sinking into a seat on the bed, far away from Meela. "Quite the little opportunist, isn't he?"

Rick scoffed. "How do you think he's managed to keep himself alive this long?"

Jonathan let out a sigh, reaching into his pocket for his car keys. "So I take it we're headed back to the apartment, then?"

"No."

Ardeth's voice slid through the room icily. He met Rick's eyes. "It is too risky to take her out into the streets," he said, nodding at Meela. "The Creature will be coming here to find her."

Rick nodded. "Alright. Vera, you and me are going to your apartment. Everyone else is staying here."

He strode across the room and was nearly to the door when Ardeth's voice stopped him again:

"No. I will take her."

Vera sucked in a little breath. She tried not to sound too nervous as she looked up at him and said, "Are you sure you want to help me barter with him?"

He had a grim smile in his eyes, but his mouth was unmoved. "I would like more than anything to 'barter' with your friend Mr. Gabor."

Vera felt numb as she walked with him down the hallway, to the elevator. His hand clenched and unclenched around the car keys Jonathan had given up with great reluctance and a long list of instructions. Vera had barely noticed the exchange between the two men. She could only hear her heart in her ears, pounding faster with every minute.

She blinked, and they were in the car, driving through unnaturally dark streets. Ardeth might have said something about the plague of darkness, but she wasn't really listening. Her insides were cold and she tried to rub away the goosebumps on her arms. She tried not to focus on the hundred different things that might happen when they reached her apartment.

"Why this man, Vera?"

Ardeth's voice made her jump. She turned to look at him, but he kept his eyes steady on the road.

She sucked in a little breath. "I don't know."

"Have I been so despicable?" he asked, his voice so pitiful and quiet. "Do you truly hate me so much?"

Vera swallowed hard. She didn't want the tears to come, but they were anyway - blurring her vision, but not slipping past her lashes.

"I don't hate you," she said. "I'm just..."

He glanced into her eyes, and they watched one another for the flicker of a moment. The dark beauty of his face made her sick with longing, and she gasped back a little sob, her gaze quickly retreating to her hands.

"I can't love you anymore," she said slowly. "I'm exhausted. I'm tired of loving you and wishing things were different. I can't do it anymore."

He slowed the car to a stop just next to her apartment building and parked. She heard him let out a long sigh, and turned to look at him. He looked weary and even old, sitting there in the car with the weight of her words closing in on him. She started to whisper that she was sorry, but his eyes flashed up to hers.

"But why him?"

Vera had a sinking feeling in her gut. There it was, the question she'd been dreading all this time, since that night she asked Beni to sit with her in her apartment and have a drink. She saw him in the hallway smoking a cigarette and figured he was one of her neighbors, and she'd asked him if shootings often happened in this neighborhood. And she'd trusted him because he spoke English. And then sheepishly, with her eyes on the floor and her weight shifting from one foot to the other, she said, "Maybe it's awfully silly, but I've been pretty...jarred. Do you mind sitting with me in my apartment, just for a while? I have some gin." And she drank gin until she wanted to kiss him, and he took even more than her kiss.

Because that's what he did. He took everything.

"I don't know," she told him again. "It just happened."

Ardeth shook his head in disbelief. "For months on end, 'it just happened'? I'm not a fool, Vera. I wish you would not treat me like one."

She let out a sigh, and despite herself and her empathy for him, her muscles tightened with irritation.

"What do you want to hear, then?" she asked. "That I've fallen in love? Or that I believe he's secretly a good man? Or just that I like him better in bed?"

Ardeth's eyebrows jerked. "Do you?"

Vera gaped at him in shock. "Oh my God, I'm not talking about this any longer."

She reached for the handle and swung open the door of the car, but Ardeth's hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned and looked at him, meeting his desperate eyes again.

"I just want an answer," he said quietly. "Don't you think you owe it to me?"

Vera sucked in a breath, glancing up at her apartment building before turning to meet his eyes again.

"I don't have an answer for you," she said finally.

She could tell him the truth. She could tell him that she liked being with Beni because she couldn't have children, but Ardeth wouldn't understand. He thought her choice was about rejecting him in favor of someone much less worthy. She couldn't make him realize it was actually about her own unworthiness. She couldn't make him believe it was the reason she left; how would he ever believe it was the reason she was choosing someone else?

He sighed, his hand slowly releasing her shoulder. She slipped quickly out of the car, and she could hear him following close behind her as she hurried up the stairs to her apartment door. She reached into her skirt pocket for her keys and unlocked the door, but when she tried to open it, it wouldn't budge. She frowned curiously and tried again, hearing the faint scrape of something against the floor. Letting out an irritated sigh, she turned and looked at Ardeth.

"He pushed the table up against the door."

Ardeth rose an eyebrow. "I thought you said he wanted us to find him."

Vera shook her head, turning her attention to the door. "Beni?" she called. "It's Vera. Let me in."

"Believe me, I would," his pathetic, shaking voice came from the other side of the door. "But I can't."

Ver turned and looked at Ardeth in confusion. Their eyes met for a brief moment before the door burst open and a strange, strong wind knocked them both on their backs.


	20. The Fire Sermon

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the quote from this chapter (which echoes some of Chapter 1) is from the poem, lines 19-24, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

_What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow  
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,  
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only  
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,  
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the crickets no relief,  
And the dry stone no sound of water.  
_

**The Fire Sermon**

Ardeth was leaning over her, brushing her hair out of her face before she even had the chance to pull herself up to a sitting position. She assured him she was fine and stood up as quickly as she could, her eyes catching the long, dark scimitar in his hand as he stormed into the room. Vera took a breath, and stepped in behind him.

Beni was on the floor, rubbing his throat and gazing up with his panicked eyes at a strange form. He was a tall man, bald-headed, and dressed unlike anyone Vera had ever seen before. Ardeth said something to him fiercely in ancient Egyptian that she didn't understand. It had been years since she'd sat at her father's side, pretending to listen to him as he pointed out hieroglyphic figures and call them by name. Now she wished she had shared his passion for dead languages.

The man responded to Ardeth, and raised a threatening hand. Ardeth raised his blade. Vera's eyes widened, and she quickly dropped to the floor, inching over to where Beni was curled up.

"What happened?" she whispered. "Who is he?"

Beni swallowed hard, and when his hand moved away from his neck, she could see dark bruises ringing it. He scoffed, though his eyes were still wide and frightened.

"Who do you think it is? Imhotep."

Vera sucked in a little breath, glancing up at the man again.

"What happened to your neck?"

He shot her a little glare. "Is it that hard to figure out?"

Vera resisted the urge to hit him. For perhaps the first time since she'd met him, he looked legitimately desperate and pathetic, and something inside her hurt for him, despite herself.

"Where is the gold book?"

Beni glanced nervously at Imhotep, as if he might hear. "I hid it."

"You didn't give it to him?" Vera couldn't hide her surprise. He gave her a look.

"Well I was about to, but then you two showed up."

She nodded slowly. "Show me where it is."

Beni looked her over incredulously. "Oh, you read ancient Egyptian now?"

Vera ran a tongue over her lips and glanced at Imhotep, who was stalking towards Ardeth with a hand raised.

"Ardeth does," she said. They watched Imhotep slam Ardeth into the wall, leaving a crack in the surface and sending little torrents of dust down the floor. She gasped, meeting Beni's eyes. "And maybe I know a little. Please. Show me where it is."

Beni scoffed. "The only place I am headed is out of this room."

Vera took hold of his arm tightly. "Well, tell me then!"

He glanced away from her, watching Ardeth pull himself to his feet dazedly and raise his sword again. He ran his tongue over his lips, and Vera noticed a cruel glint in his eye that made her stomach tighten with anger.

"Oh, my God, you think you can come back for it."

His gaze hardened. "It is a solid gold book, Vera. Do you think I would just give it away to you?"

She started to say something, and quickly shut her mouth. Ardeth was growing weary against Imhotep, and Imhotep was losing his patience with his mortal advances. She had to think quickly.

"If you tell me where it is, I'll hide it. I'll keep it for you until you can come get it again."

Beni's eyes shifted around the room, contemplating her words. She met his suspicious glance, her heart thudding with the urgency of the situation.

"You know I won't betray you. Please."

He gave her a little nod, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"You have a loose floorboard in your bathroom. It is under there."

She met his eyes again before pulling herself to her feet. She glanced at Ardeth across the room, and she never did see Beni scurry out of the room to safety. She took a deep breath, and ran into her bathroom. She got down on her hands and knees and started pulling at the floorboards. How was it Beni knew she had loose floorboards, and she'd never noticed? What other things had he hidden in here over the past few months?

She heard a body connect with the wall with a loud thud, followed by a low moan. Her stomach dropped. She blinked a few times and focused on her task.

Suddenly her fingers slid across a deep seam between the boards, and she pulled up on it. The beam pulled free and she caught a glimpse of something glinting underneath. She let out a relieved sigh and quickly pulled it out. It was terribly heavy in her arms, and as she ran a hand over the cover, her heart sank. It was locked.

Vera raked a hand through her hair and struggled to think of something. Imhotep would surely kill Ardeth if she wasn't fast, and then where would she be? She wouldn't be able to translate the inscriptions on her own. She urged her mind to think, _think -_

She glanced down at the place where the board had been and noticed another glint, this one duller and silver. With a frown, she reached in and pulled out a pistol. So this wasn't the first time Beni had hidden something in her home.

Without even checking to see if it was loaded, she took it in both her hands and aimed it at the lock. She pulled the trigger, and the sound of the shot made her jump, the pistol slipping through her fingers and sliding across the floorboards. Footsteps were stalking towards the bathroom now. Her eyes jerked to the book, the lock on the side blown off into little gold chunks all around the bathroom floor. With shaking fingers she opened the book.

She scanned the foreign figures for only a moment before a dark voice interrupted her. She glanced up and met Imhotep's black eyes. Her throat felt very dry as she reached for the book and clutched it against her. Her gave her a dark smirk and took a step forward.

"Ardeth," she called quietly.

She could hear him groan from the other room, and her heart sank.

Her breath came in quick, sudden gulps as she turned her eyes to the glimmering page. She could decipher the first glyph from some dusty corner of her memory, and she started to speak the spell with a shaking voice. Imhotep's eyes widened, and before she could even glance at the next glyph, he had her by the throat, holding her high above the floor.

She struggled harder now to suck in air as his fingers tightened around her neck. She gazed down at him with helpless, desperate eyes, but she could find no pity in the depths of his gaze. He smiled, just a little, as he squeezed. Vera imagined she felt bones breaking as she labored harder for breath, the edges of the world getting darker and darker...

Reality snapped back to her with a painful crack as she landed on the floor. She coughed and sputtered for air, reaching a trembling hand up to her throat. She didn't think to find out what had happened until she heard Ardeth's voice, true and calm, reciting the spell.

A cold, blue wind rushed through the room, and suddenly Imhotep's face wasn't so proud and cruel. He looked down at the scimitar in Ardeth's hand fearfully, and started to say something in a pleading voice before he was ran through. He stumbled to the floor and collapsed next to Vera. She let out a cry and pulled herself quickly to her feet, watching in awe as blood began to pool around his body.

She ran a hand through her hair with shaking fingers and turned to look at her husband.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He nodded, reaching over to take her hand. She watched him bring it to his lips and sigh sadly.

"Do you still wish to be free of me?"

Vera's stomach tightened a little. She didn't want to tell him the truth, especially as she stared at him now, his body bruised and bloody, robes torn from fighting an impossible foe. But she couldn't lie. Not anymore.

"Yes."

He nodded slowly, gazing at Imhotep's crumpled form.

"Then I divorce you," he said, and released her hand.


	21. The Cruellest Month

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the quote from this chapter (which echoes some of Chapter 1) is from the poem, lines 19-24, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

**The Cruellest Month**

"Hello?"

The uncertain, heavily-accented voice made Vera jump. She met Ardeth's eyes frantically, and they both glanced at Imhotep, his previously handsome form now shrunked to a dusty, twisted corpse. He gave her a little nod, and she hurried out of the room, her gaze colliding with Ibolya's wide, gray eyes. She stood in the doorway shifting her weight, glancing away from Vera every now and then to stare at her door - cracked and broken in the hallway from Imhotep.

Vera gave her a nervous smile.

"Me...son," Ibolya said slowly, her voice shaking. "Seen...him?"

Vera's stomach dropped. She shook her head, wishing desperately she knew how to communicate with her. She watched the other woman nod bravely before gasping in a sob. She doubled over in the doorway, and she gripped the threshold for support. Vera crossed the room quickly and put an awkward hand on her shoulder.

A moment later, she heard Ardeth's footsteps, and looked up to meet his confused eyes.

"Who is this?"

Vera swallowed hard. "Ibolya. She...lost her son."

Ardeth's eyes widened knowingly, and he whispered something that hit Vera hard in the gut. In all her haste to get back to the apartment, she'd forgotten the worst plague of all.

"Will he come back?" she whispered.

Ardeth could only stare back at her helplessly. His eyes widened all of the sudden, and she watched the color drain from his face. She knew what he was concerned over before the name even made it to his lips:

"Jamir."

His firstborn son. Vera's heart ached for him as he strode past her without another word. He stopped suddenly in the hallway, turned, and handed her Jonathan's keys.

"Take her to the others."

Vera wasn't sure what good that would do, but she nodded. She tried to explain to Ibolya what they were doing in the simplest phrases possible, but she could tell from the woman's confused eyes and forced smile that she didn't understand. She took her by the hand and led her out of the apartment building, to Jonathan's car, and they got in.

Her mind raced to the group at the hotel, wishing desperately she knew more about her companions waiting there. Was Jonathan older, or was Evelyn? Did they have another sibling who was the oldest? And what about Rick? Vera was an only child - saved, she supposed, by her infant brother who'd died after only a few days of life. And Ardeth was the firstborn son, but he had two sisters ahead of him. And Beni...

Her breath caught suddenly, and she turned to look at Ibolya, scanning the streets wildly for any sign of her son. How would she ever explain to her that her child and her child's father were gone? Vera blinked rapidly and prayed that this plague was as temporary as all the others.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus on the road, but the path to Cleopatra's Temple quickly became mechanical. So she turned her mind to the other mysteries at hand. How had Imhotep ended up in her apartment? How had he known to go there? Now that he was destroyed, what would happen to his followers? Were they still at Hamunaptra, or would they be storming Cairo - an army of the living and the undead, prepared to take over the world under a leader who no longer existed? And what of Meela? What would they ever do with her?

As she pulled to a stop near the hotel, Vera found herself even more shaken and anxious than she had been to begin with. There were too many questions, and all of them promised dark, supernatural answers. Oh, why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut at the bakery, those weeks ago?

She forced a smile for Ibolya and beckoned her to follow as she hurried into the hotel. The elevator couldn't seem to carry them quickly enough, and when they finally reached the floor, Vera's heart felt as if it might burst. She nearly jogged down the hallway to the door of Beni's room and knocked.

A moment later, Jonathan answered.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

Vera shook her head, motioning at Ibolya. "The plague...of the firstborn..."

Jonathan frowned. "No, I don't think so. Or else I had an older brother my parents never told me about."

He looked past Vera and gave the Hungarian woman a little smile. "And I suppose you're looking for your son."

Relief flooded over Vera's entire body. "He's here?"

Jonathan nodded, giving Ibolya a wink. "We've been giving him scotch and teaching him English swear words. I hope you don't mind."

Ibolya looked at him in confusion, and Vera reminded him that she didn't speak English. With a smile, he led her into the room, where Imre sat on the floor toying with one of the decorative statues. She let out a loud sigh and whispered something in Hungarian before rushing over to the boy and wrapping her arms around him.

Vera shook her head, trying to quiet her nerves now that she knew that they hadn't been struck by the final plague after all.

"What happened over here?"

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders. "It was very uneventful, actually. We only had one visitor the whole night, and it was that little bugger over there. I must say, I didn't think Beni the type to be a father."

Vera scoffed. "Where's Meela?"

He winced a little, and pulled her closer. "We didn't want to scare the boy. But she's gone and...well, she ran herself through with that knife in the bathroom."

Vera swallowed hard. "Oh my."

He nodded. "We're not entirely sure what to do about it. She was acting very odd. Sometimes she'd sit very upright and start murmuring some blather in ancient Egyptian, and then suddenly she let out a loud cry and told us she needed to use the loo. Next thing we knew, she'd done herself in."

Vera's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and she found herself wishing Ardeth was here to confirm the legends she thought she was remembering.

"It sounds...I mean, this is very odd. But it sort of sounds as if they had a...telepathic connection. Doesn't it?"

Jonathan shrugged. "Damned if I know, love. I'm just glad it's over."

Vera nodded, glancing about the room and noticing Rick and Evelyn for the first time. They stood together near the window and discussed something quietly, and didn't seem to have noticed her arrival.

Meela and Imhotep _must_ have had some sort of connection. Perhaps she had told him to follow Beni instead, or maybe...Vera shook her head. This was all too much for her to contemplate. But Meela killed herself, assumedly when Imhotep was destroyed. It only made sense...

"Vera!"

Evelyn's voice interrupted her thoughts, and suddenly she and Rick were both in front of her. She assured them that Imhotep was gone, that Ardeth had killed him just in time -

"Where is old Ardeth, anyway?" O'Connell asked.

Vera sighed, jerking her chin at Ibolya. "Well, when she showed up looking for her son, we _thought_ the last plague had happened..."

"Oh," Jonathan said. "So that's what that was about."

She nodded. "Ardeth went to check on his son."

Evelyn frowned. "But I thought..." She quickly shut her mouth, blushing a little. Vera glanced away, grateful she hadn't brought herself to ask the question. They probably thought the situation was strange as it was, her sleeping with Beni, and Ardeth insisting that she was his wife, even though she lived in the city...

"So...where's Beni?" Rick asked, his tone more strained than concerned.

Vera sucked in a little breath and shrugged stiffly. "I don't know. He left."

"He gave you the book, though," Evelyn said. "That's remarkable."

"Yes," Jonathan said. "Perhaps he's not such a blackguard after all."

Rick scoffed. "Don't kid yourself."

Vera nodded her head slowly.

"What I wouldn't give for a chance to have that book in my hands again," Evelyn said with a wistful sigh.

Vera's heart started to beat heavily in her chest. She stared steadily at the floor, her hands curling and uncurling at her sides. Taking a deep breath, she met Evelyn's eyes with something like empathy.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "It's gone."


	22. In Our Empty Rooms

_**Author's Note. **Sigh...It's complete! I've been putting off writing this chapter because I didn't want to end it, but now that I'm preoccupied with _The Scarab Society_, I figure I ought to cut it loose. As always, thanks for your reviews!_

_**Disclaimer. **The characters of_ The Mummy_ belong to Universal Studios. "The Wasteland" is the title of a poem by T.S. Eliot, and the quote from this chapter (which echoes some of Chapter 1) is from the poem, lines 24-26 and 402-409, which is technically now public domain, but...you know, credit where credit is due and all that._

* * *

**The Wasteland**

* * *

_...Only  
There is shadow under this red rock,  
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock)..._

_The awful daring of a moment's surrender  
Which an age of prudence can never retract  
By this, and this only, we have existed  
Which is not to be found in our obituaries  
Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider  
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor  
In our empty rooms._

**In Our Empty Rooms**

Vera didn't see Beni for weeks.

When she returned to her apartment from the hotel, the gold book was still right where she had left it. In a way, that surprised her; she sort of suspected that he'd been lurking near enough by to know when Imhotep was destroyed so that he could snatch it up for himself. But clearly, he'd gone much further. So she hid the book and waited.

She expected him to come within a few days, but he didn't. The next week, she started to see little signs of him. He must have broken in to search for the book himself. But he wouldn't look where she had put it, she was sure. If he wanted it, he would have to come to her and ask for it.

Still, he kept her waiting. And life carried on. Nico returned from his trip, and argued with Phoebe when she insisted that Vera be fired for missing work without explanation that week. She went to the bakery morning after morning, kneading dough and toasting almonds, and wondering all the time what a strange existence this was.

Ardeth had divorced her. In three simple words, they were finally undone. He would not be coming back to her apartment now, begging that she return to the tribe. She wondered if he'd now be free of her - if he'd fall out of love and find someone new to make him happy, since he insisted Fatima couldn't.

And still she'd carry on. Day after day, month after month. There would be no interruption to the cycle, to her cycles. No promise of life. Nothing new. Just the same, tired wheel rolling on and on.

Beni was in the papers sometimes. Briefly mentioned, a disappointment. The banks were denying extensions on his loans. He insisted Hamunaptra was out there, and stocked full of gold. But he'd dragged his heels too long. It would take weeks to reorganize diggers, equipment, archeologists...and Cairo wasn't so enchanted with him anymore. Maybe Hamunaptra _was_ out there, buried beneath the sand. But he was going to have to settle his debts before anyone gave him more money to haul back all the gold. A museum might make him an offer - cut him a deal if he took them out there to excavate it himself. But the reward was shallow in comparison to what he might have made, bringing the gold back on his own and selling it off.

She guessed it wouldn't be long, now, before he came for the book. But still the weeks wore on.

She kneaded dough and toasted almonds, and sometimes Jonathan came in for sourota. Sometimes Evelyn stopped in for a loaf of bread. They would glance at each other like people holding the same secret, and smile and make small talk like old friends. Only they weren't old friends.

"Have you seen anything of our friend the weasel?" Jonathan asked her once, a little nervously. Vera shook her head. "I was just curious after the little wanker. His luck seems to have run out, according to the papers."

Vera asked Evelyn in a whispered tone of they would be going back to Hamunaptra, now that they had an opportunity to prove their involvement. But Evelyn shook her head.

"I think it's best that city remain where it is," she said, "but we're going to go other places. Rick is right. I'm not gaining any recognition sitting about here cataloguing library books. I need to work in the field."

Vera wasn't one to miss the humble but glittering diamond on Evelyn's ring finger. Another woman married, probably soon to be pregnant. Another person's cycle interrupted in a way hers would never be. And still the weeks wore on.

She'd come home from work and check the book's hiding place, just to be sure Beni hadn't happened upon it yet. It was always waiting for her, glittering in the darkness. She wondered what he would do when he had it.

He would probably leave.

She didn't know why she believed that, but she knew it, deep down. Once he had the book, he'd be gone. The banks were after him, demanding that he pay up on his loans. Which was to say nothing of the unsavory characters he used to hang around as a poor man, certainly demanding their due. And Ibolya was probably still around the city somewhere, demanding money for the well-being of their son. He had too many creditors and not nearly enough hiding places. She supposed that happened sooner or later to people like him. It was probably how he'd managed to travel so many places.

With the gold book, he could leave. He'd pawn it off for a measely fraction of what it was worth and take off. He'd go somewhere he'd never been before, and start the same cycle over again. And Vera would be here, moving steadily on.

She lay awake at night, straining her ears for the sound of light, quiet footsteps. But there were none. _It doesn't matter,_ she told herself. _He'll come. Even if it's the last time he ever does. He'll come._

And still the weeks dragged on.

She was just starting to consider the possibility that he'd been killed by one angry sombody or another when she heard a knock on her door. Vera took a deep breath and pulled herself up from her bed. Her hands shook as she unlocked the door. And there he was, glancing over his shoulder.

His suit, so new and smart a few months ago, was worn and dirty now. He pushed past her into the room and closed the door quickly, locking it before she had a chance to do it herself. She watched him as his eyes darted about the dark room. He rubbed his hands together and glanced at her expectantly.

"Where is it?"

Vera took a deep breath. "Where have you been?"

He scoffed and tapped his foot impatiently. "What difference does it make? I want the book. I need it right now."

She nodded slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's the hurry?"

His mouth gaped at her, and he took her roughly by the arm. "What kind of question is that? You can see I need it now. Go and get it."

He shoved her and she regained her balance, turning to look him in the eye.

"If it was so urgent, you could have come for it a month ago."

Beni snorted. "I did not need it a month ago."

Vera nodded, shifting her weight. She could feel his impatient eyes urging her to move.

"Come on," he said, his voice getting a little whiny now. "My boat leaves in two hours."

Her stomach dropped. She looked up at him in surprise. "You're leaving?"

"Well I am not staying here. Every person in the city wants me in prison."

Vera shook her head slowly. Before she could stop herself, the lie was slipping out:

"I don't have it."

His eyes widened, and for a moment she thought he might hit her.

_"What?"_

But she stared back at him steadily, her eyes unwavering though her hands trembled. "I'm sorry. When Imhotep was destroyed, it disappeared, just like that."

He glared at her incredulously. "You're lying."

"Why would I lie about this?"

But Beni was unconvinced. "It did not disappear the last time he was destroyed. Why would it now?"

Vera shrugged. "How should I know? I just know it did. I saw it with my own eyes."

He glared at her a suspicious moment longer before his entire countenance crumbled. His face fell in pathetic desperation, and he clutched the sides of his face as he dropped to a seat on her bed. He mumbled to himself in Hungarian before finally managing:

"My God, what am I going to do? The banks will put me in prison for the rest of my life! If one of those investors does not have me killed first..."

Vera pushed away the feeling of guilt that crept up her spine, reminding herself that he tended to exaggerate his own misfortune.

She sat down next to him slowly and took his hand.

"How could it disappear?" he moaned.

Vera took a deep breath and squeezed his hand. "Don't worry about that. It's gone. There's nothing you can do about it."

"Oh," he whined, "but what _am_ I going to do? They will probably have me hanged!"

"No, they won't," she said calmly. "It's going to be fine. In a few weeks, everyone will forget about you, and it'll all go back to normal."

"I was so rich!" he cried, shaking his head. "How did it slip away? How could it all slip away?"

She reached a hand up to his shoulder and told him gently, "It's alright."

"Why does this always happen to me? Why can't anything ever go my way?"

Vera sighed, touching the side of his face. "Just stay here. Stay here with me until this all blows over."

Beni let out a groan and nodded wearily. He leaned back and laid his head on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sour look on his face. She took a breath and let it out in a long shaking sigh, and then lay down next to him.

"At least goddamn Ibolya is gone," he muttered.

Vera turned and looked at him curiously. "Is she?"

He nodded. Vera watched him for a moment.

"What did you do about your son?"

Beni snorted. "I told you, he is not my son." He sighed. "But I gave them a little money. It is the only way she would leave."

Vera sighed, propping herself up on an elbow to look at him. He looked back at her curiously. They stared at each other in the dark for a long moment, and Vera _almost_ told him the truth about the book. She opened her mouth to tell him, but quickly shut it, reaching over to kiss him before he could ask her what she was about to say.

She couldn't let him leave.

Other people had breaks in their monotony. They fell in love. They had children. A new life started. But not for Vera. She kneaded dough and toasted almonds, day after day. The only interruption she knew was the sound of his knock in the middle of the night, breaking the cycle of her sleep. Breaking the cycle of her day that stretched ever onward like the dead expanse of the desert. And she couldn't go on and on and on like that, without interruption. She had to keep him here.

After all, he'd been leeching off of her for months now. It wouldn't kill him if she returned the favor.


End file.
